Just as I’m considering shoving my teeth into his eye holes, there’s a shout from the driver’s seat. It’s only a matter of seconds before they’ve swerved us off the road and I go tumbling to the other wall. Xander lands on top of me with a grunt. “Ugly lizard,” I snap as he rolls off me. “Fetid mutt,” he spits back. Once again, Xander proves his entitled upbringing by throwing big words around. What does fetid even mean? It sounds like an STD, and the thought sends me growling.
