“This is a strange place to meet a friend,” Phil said, pulling up to the rest stop diner.

I laid my hand on the door handle. “He’s passing through doesn’t have time to go into town.”

“Alright then. You call me when you’re done and I’ll come get you.”

“I will thanks.” I got out then lifted the seat forward for Peter to climb out. We waited for Phil to pull away before we turned to look at each other. I glanced at my watch and saw that I had ten minutes before I was supposed to meet NightWatcher. I told Peter we should split up now.

Peter’s eyes were anxious. “You sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

“I promised to meet him alone. It’s busy place in the middle of the day so I’m sure it’s safe.” He did not look convinced so I squeezed his hand. “There’s not a cloud in the sky so you know we won’t run into anyone with UV allergies. Besides, you’ll be right outside. I’ll try to get a table by the window so you can see me.”

He nodded reluctantly and I turned and went into the diner. The waitress told me to grab any table I wanted so I took a booth near the window in the back where Peter could see me and I could see anyone entering the diner. After a few minutes, the waitress brought me a menu and I ordered a milkshake then settled back to wait. My phone rang and Roland’s name came up. Hope u get back here before he finds u. I did not need to reply to ask who he was.

I was sipping my milkshake when the door opened and in walked the last person I’d expect to run into here. I shook my head in annoyance. Lots of locals stopped here driving to and from Portland but what were the chances of seeing Scott Foley here today of all days?

Scott spotted me around the same time I saw him. He stared at me in surprise and I think he started to come over but changed his mind. I let out a small sigh of relief when I saw him pay for a milkshake and leave. It was one thing having Peter outside. I didn’t think NightWatcher would approach me if I was arguing with Scott when he showed up. I’d worked too hard to set up this meeting to have someone screw it up now.

At two o’clock on the dot, the door opened and a young Japanese man with short spiked hair came in. He stopped and looked around until his eyes landed on me, then he walked purposefully toward my booth.

“You’re a lot younger than I expected,” he said in a low voice as he slid onto the vinyl seat across from me.

I didn’t bother to hide my surprise. “How did you know it was me?”

He smiled, showing off perfect white teeth. “Aside from the fact that you’re obviously not a trucker and you had your boyfriend wait outside for you? Let’s just say I have a way of knowing things about people just by looking at them.”

I looked more closely at his face and spotted a faint gold ring inside his brown irises. “You’re an Emote!” I breathed and he nodded. Emotes are people who can read auras – and not like those fake psychics you see at a carnival. Their perception is so good that an experienced Emote can tell what you’re feeling, if you are lying or if you are hiding something just by seeing your aura. A vampire couldn’t get within twenty feet of an Emote without being detected, which explained why NightWatcher hadn’t entered the Attic that night. It also explained why he’d insisted we meet in person. He wanted to read me.

I knew something else about Emotes. They can tell small lies but big deceptions are very difficult for them which meant I could probably trust what this man had to say.

“What does my aura tell you about me?”

His dark brown eyes studied me. “I can see that you mean me no harm and you desperately hope I have the answers you’ve been looking for. I also see that you are you are running from someone – but you are not afraid of them. Curious.”

“Impressive.” I’d met one other Emote a few years ago and she could only tell if someone was lying. Being able to read beyond that takes a lot of skill. “I guess we should introduce ourselves. I’m Sara, but you know me as PixieGirl.”

“David, aka NightWatcher.” He gave me as small smile as he extended a slender hand. “I have to tell you that I was very curious about you as soon as I heard you were asking questions about Daniel Grey. It’s been a long time since I heard that name. Before I say anything else, I want to know why someone as young as you is interested in a man who has been dead for ten years.”

I met his gaze without blinking. “Daniel Grey was my father.”

David’s eyes widened and his mouth made an O shape. “So you’re Madeline’s daughter.”

“Yes,” I said bitterly. “You knew her?”

“My father knew her.” He quieted because the waitress came over to take his order. He ordered a coffee and waited until she walked away before he spoke again. “Ten years ago Madeline Croix called my father to tell him she was in a lot of trouble and needed his help. I was fourteen and I remember he was not happy to hear from her. I could see his fear though he tried to hide it from me. A few days later, Madeline came to our house. They talked for about an hour and he gave her a leather pouch that he’d apparently been keeping for her. It was full of cash and some papers. She said she had to disappear.”

“Did she say why?”

He glanced around nervously and his voice dropped so low that I had to lean forward to hear him. “Madeline told my father that she had discovered the identity of a Master.”