“Well, that won’t be a problem this time,” Tybo pointed out. “Your car is still in the parking lot of your apartment building, and we’re taking a helicopter to Port Henry. They won’t be able to follow.”

Allie hoped he was right. It would be nice not to be looking over her shoulder for a change. It would be nice too not to have to give up blood to Liam, and even just to be able to talk about this stuff with someone. Those things were making Port Henry seem as attractive as a luxury resort in a tropical locale, she thought, and then glanced to Lucian with curiosity and asked, “Why haven’t you asked me to describe the rogues I’ve spotted over the last four years, or if I recall the head guy’s name yet?”

“Because I can read the descriptions from your mind and that you have not recalled the name,” he said simply.

“Oh. Right.” She felt her face heat up at the idea that he was reading her thoughts, and started running back through them, trying to see if she’d thought anything she needed to be embarrassed about.

“Maybe it would help you remember his name if you thought back to when you first heard it,” Magnus suggested. “Do you remember when Stella told you his name?”

“Not really,” Allie admitted apologetically, even as she tried to search out the memory. Distracted by the task, she muttered, “I mean, it’s been four years since she told me the truth.”

“A hectic four years too, from the sounds of it,” Tricia said, her voice sympathetic.

“Yes,” Allie acknowledged absently, her mind on when she’d heard the name of Stella’s sire. It must have been when she’d first told her the story, of course. She made herself remember the room they’d been sitting in, and tried to imagine she was back there with Stella telling her what had happened to her. After a moment, she frowned and muttered, “I remember his name started with an A like mine and it was strange. I’d never heard it before. It sounded like amazon, but wasn’t amazon. It was Ackermon, or Addabon or—”

“Abaddon,” Lucian growled.

Allie’s eyes popped open. “That’s it!”

“Dear God,” Mortimer said quietly, and then glanced to Lucian. “Basha and Marcus are in San Francisco following up on a report of a possible sighting of him there.”

“Call them back to Toronto,” Lucian said grimly. “Basha needs to be here.”

Nodding, Mortimer started to rise, but Lucian waved him back to his seat. “After we finish here.” Turning to Allie then, he asked, “Stella lived in British Columbia when she was attacked?”

“Yes.” Allie nodded firmly. “Vancouver.”

“When she arrived on your doorstep the night she died, did she specify who had found her? Did she mentioned seeing Abaddon himself there in Calgary?”