“Find anything interesting?” said a deep voice behind him.

Luc jumped. He hadn’t heard Prather come in. He moved quietly for such a big man. Luc didn’t turn but continued looking at the map.

“You’ve played in all these places already this year?” Luc said.

“That is a future route card,” Prather said. “A dream of mine… for when I’ve gathered the proper troupe—the ultimate troupe, one might say—of handpicked performers. That will be the tour to end all tours.”

Something in his voice made Luc turn. Prather’s eyes were bright under his lanky hair; his grin looked… hungry.

Luc glanced at his watch, as much to break contact with Prather’s eyes as to check the time. The digits read 8:43. A minute past time.

“Have you. got the creature secured?” Luc said.

Prather nodded. “We are ready if you are.”

“Let’s go then.”

“Payment first,” Prather said, holding out a wide, long-fingered hand.

Luc hesitated. He’d always paid after he’d drawn the sample. “Is something wrong with the creature?”

“Yes. It is dying, as we both know. But do not fear—it is not yet dead.”

Then, why did Prather want payment first? Luc stiffened at a terrifying thought—if the creature was near death, if this was to be the last sampling of its blood, then Luc was of no further value to Prather. If they would no longer be doing business, then Luc, a witness to murder, was… disposable.

He would never forget how casually Prather had disposed of Macintosh.

“You look frightened, Dr. Monnet,” Prather said, baring his teeth in a yellowed grin. “As if you fear for your life.”

“No, I—”

“Relax, Doctor. I am a man of my word, forthright in my dealings. I am so because I must set an example for my troupe.” He extended his hand closer to Luc. “This is my business office; let us do business.”

Luc pulled out the envelope and handed it to him. “I’ve included advance payment for three of your roustabouts as security when I test this batch.”

Prather nodded as he counted the money. “Things got a little out of hand last time, you say?”

“A little.”

More than a little. Luc had lost control of two of the test subjects. He chewed his upper lip at the memory. It had been quite nearly a disaster.

Prather sighed as he closed the envelope. “I don’t like hiring them out, but attendance is off this tour. In good times people seem less inclined to go and stare at those less fortunate than they—at least those who appear less fortunate. So we must make ends meet any way we can.” He stuffed the envelope into one of his own pockets. His voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were talking to himself. “Because I must keep the troupe together—by any means necessary.”

Wondering at the hint of desperation in Prather’s voice, Luc followed him out of the trailer and into the twilight. He caught the scent of the Long Island Sound as they followed a path of trampled marsh grass to the main tent.