Hunter Moon (The Moon Series) by Jeanette Battista Read Free Book Online Page B

this joint they looked ridiculously out of place. He should have worn leather. Maybe something with rivets. Or possibly studs.
    If Finn looked out of place, Rafe looked like he was from the outer edges of the galaxy. But if the kid was bothered, he didn’t let on, nodding at a few men seated at tables throughout the dark room. Finn suspected that Rafe would feel at home here if Finn weren’t tagging along. That thought made Finn wonder even more what Rafe’s home life had been like.
    Finn kept abreast of Rafe as they walked to the bar, his eyes scanning the room for anyone who looked like they might want to start trouble. Of course, that would be the entire bar, Finn noted, barely managing not to roll his eyes at his own idiocy. He tried not to hunch his shoulders, a byproduct of feeling like he had a giant target painted on his back.
    Rafe caught the bartender’s eye; not hard when he was so obviously underage. Words were exchanged—it was hard to hear over the jukebox—and then the bartender jerked his thumb toward the door. Rafe grabbed Finn’s arm and pulled him back outside.
    Finn shook off Rafe’s grip almost immediately. “What are you doing?”
    “Bartender told me Shane’s out back,” Rafe answered, unconcerned.
    “And you believed him?” Finn could just imagine the welcome party waiting for them at the back of the seedy establishment.
    He could tell that Rafe was ignoring him, but Finn thought the kid was crazy. They could be walking into an ambush. “How do you know about this place anyway?”
    “It didn’t always used to be so rough.” Rafe didn’t take his eyes off the perimeter of the building, naturally watchful. “My dad—before he left—used to bring me here on payday to cash his check. He got me a Yoohoo while he had a couple of beers.”
    “How long ago was that?” The Eight Ball now seemed to cater to bikers, possible ex-cons, and some construction workers, but it certainly wasn’t the kind of place for father and young son bonding time.
    “Ten years,” Rafe said with a shrug.
    Finn shook his head. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure they don’t serve Yoohoo in there anymore.” He followed the young werehyena around the side of the building with no further comment.
    Four werehyenas were gathered around an old pickup truck, peering under the vehicle’s open hood. Finn knew they were hyenas because any of them could have subbed in for a runway show should all of Calvin Klein’s male models contract the plague all at once. The four men all turned as he and Rafe crunched across the gravel lot.
    There was an uncomfortable silence as the hyenas sized them up. Finn tried to keep his face neutral, but it was hard because he was suddenly seized with the overwhelming urge to laugh. He bit the inside of his cheek to try and keep it together.
    Two of the men pushed away from their perusal of the engine and walked over to meet them. Finn could tell they meant trouble; the swagger in their walk and the scent they were putting off confirmed it. His eyes skidded to Rafe, who had stopped, eyeing the approaching men warily.
    “We’re here to talk to Shane,” he called.
    The two men stood before them, barring the way. Finn knew he and Rafe could go around if they needed to, but he also knew that wasn’t the point of this exercise. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. He had no doubt that there was going to be some kind of fight involved. In the meantime, he eyed the man standing in front of him. Dude was old, perhaps late forties, and solidly built. He had a few inches on Finn, but Finn was definitely bulkier than this guy.
    The one in front of Rafe was more of a problem. That guy was big, bigger than Finn. He wasn’t as tall, but he more than made up for the difference in bulk. He was younger, perhaps mid-thirties, but the scars on his hands and face made it clear that here was a guy used to fighting for a living. He could snap Rafe over his knee without breaking a sweat.
    “Shane’s