Mitchell had tried that whole 'being human' thing. He'd sworn off the blood, and he'd made a good run at being a regular guy, with a regular job, and a couple of friends. But his best friend had been a werewolf, and his girlfriend was a ghost. In the end, it was all an act, and one split second decision reconfirmed what exactly he was; a monster.
He was once again playing the game, and so far quite successfully. His room mate had no idea he had a lethal set of fangs, and jet black eyes full of hunger and bloodlust. And because he was drinking from human donors, any bruises he won in a scuffle faded quickly, and no one who didn't see him engaged in the act of feeding had no idea he wasn't the very portrait of 20-something man.
He wasn't entirely sure what his intentions were with Alex, but then he hadn't expected her to agree to meet up with him. Meeting up with someone you didn't know was hardly ever a good idea. But then, they were in hell, they all woke up in bed with a complete stranger. He supposed the whole scenario was so far fetched that meeting up with another stranger probably didn't seem all that dangerous.
"You must be Alex," he stepped toward her, seeming to materialise out of the shadows.