"You're right, you didn't ask for the keys. I believe your exact words were 'wanna give me the keys or something for a joyride'," he threw back at her, verbatim. It was a good thing he wasn't violent; growing up in the city, he'd seen what happened to uncontrollable kids with potty mouths. Bruises if they were lucky. Maybe a black eye. Occasionally a cast or a sling. The unlucky ones...
She was practically screaming at him, and Xan began to wonder if she was a banshee instead. Or maybe a banshee-vampire. Or would that be banpire? Or maybe she was just bloody mental. Yeah, that's what she was. Not that it mattered. He just wished she'd stop. It was kind of grating on his ears. Plus, he still had to get to the bookstore. For the first time since his arrival, he rather regretted leaving behind the sane, normality back on the west coast.
"You know, the normal thing to do would be to introduce yourself and ask for a ride!" Xan glared at her.