Xan wondered if she was a student here; she seemed like she was fourteen. Actually, she rather reminded Xan of the Wheatons' son before they'd moved to England. Loud, obnoxious and more than a little rude. Redheads, the both of them too. From the emotions arising from her though, there was no way she was a kid. Given her race though, she was probably far older than she looked.
"Not really, given that I don't know you and you're not exactly endearing yourself to me by insulting me," the Nephilim refrained from rolling his eyes as he leaned against the car next to his bike. "I have better things to do than cater to the whims of a child," he drawled, crossing his arms.
She was off her rocker if she thought he'd simply hand over his keys to her. Recalling as much as he could about vampires, which was appallingly little, he rather wished the sun were rising instead of setting. Maybe then she'd go away. Xan paused, trying to tamp down his emotions. With an inward grown, he realized he was falling into her feelings and they were affecting his own. Apparently she was a whirlwind of emotions, running the gamut from one end to the other.