He spotted her through the glow of the headlights, and angled the car to avoid her and the dumpsters, rolling to a stop beside them. He killed the engine, leaned across the seat to grab his gun out of the glove compartment, grateful that he hadn't thought to move it somewhere Ben couldn't get to it yet, and got out, casually tucking it under the waist of his jeans. Not that he had any problems with her seeing it -- she was a demon or something, and he was so beyond the point of caring -- but he didn't want some Average Joe seeing it and calling the cops before he took care of her. He could talk his way out of it, sure, but he didn't much feel like it; he just wanted this over with.

And that in mind, he wasted no time with small talk as he came within earshot. "You know, you're kinda a shitty liar."