Free Crimson Moon by J. A. Saare Page A

He was shaking his head at us, smiling just the same.
    I blushed, cheeks burning red, and Caleb leaned down, holding me until my feet were steady on the uneven sandy turf. I peered up to see the circle had disbursed—save for one person. The lanky blonde was positively seething, glaring down at us with arms crossed over her chest.
    "Sam can't make it, dude. Change of plans.” Haven motioned with his hand, indicting we should follow him to the ladder.
    Billy crossed to the wooden boards first and I waited, fully expecting him to climb up. He paused, squatting down for a moment and then leaping into the air. His feet landed with a dull thud on the wooden floor and he rose to his full height, smiling down at me.
    "Show off,” I muttered under my breath, impressed.
    I went next, carefully maneuvering each slat until Billy reached down and helped me to my feet. I gazed down into the pit where Caleb stood watching. He motioned for me to step back, cocking an eyebrow and lifting his lip in a devious smile. Billy and I moved out of the way just as he bounded into the air, landing directly in front of me.
    "Jeez,” I teased playfully, “Can you fly as well?"
    "Maybe.” He glanced over at me and grinned.
    Haven joined us, his feet landing just inches away. He bent at the knees on impact then stood straight. A few wisps of hair escaped the ponytail, falling around his face, and he pushed them back.
    The room was crowded and smoky, with the distinctive odor of cigar tobacco clinging in the air. A thick fog hovered over the overhanging lamps, shrouding people in the room with particles of gray. I felt Caleb's steely arm come around my back, gently prodding me in the right direction.
    Haven moved across the room to a booth I hadn't seen. The seats, which wrapped completely around, were made of an ebony wood that blended beautifully against the intricate red leather. The rows of black stitching created an alternating thick and thin flame design. An enormous black marble table sat in the middle; the shining stone surface reflecting the stained glass lamp hanging overhead.
    Haven slid in first, gliding against the leather until he was seated at the very back. He produced a cigar, running the length of tobacco under his nose and inhaling.
    Caleb waited as I sat down. I scooted away to allow him extra room, which he ignored, eclipsing the space between us. Derek appeared out of nowhere, squeezing in next to Caleb. Billy closed the circle, taking the open spot beside Haven.
    I'm sitting at a table full of werewolves—a table full of freaking werewolves.
    Surreal didn't begin to cover what I was experiencing.
    "What happened to Sam?” Caleb asked, shifting back and getting comfortable.
    "Shit, bro.” Haven shook his head and lit the cigar. He puffed on the end, stoking the flame, releasing a puff of smoke into the air and watching the expanding cloud billow toward the ceiling. “Luca had to call Sam back. They got a lead."
    "Damn it!” Derek snapped.
    "I know, bro.” Haven lounged back, resting his arms along the back of the booth. “But there is some good news coming out of all of this."
    "And that is?” Caleb's body was rigid but his face was calm.
    "Your boy didn't shift. They didn't make him as one of us. " Haven grinned at Billy who held up his hand, obviously embarrassed. “He made it out without spilling the beans."
    Caleb raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
    "You dumb ass!” Derek shook his head, allowing laughter to spill free. “Do you have a death wish or something?"
    "No, sir.” Billy shook his head, turning to the woman approaching the table. “I'll have two shots of Jack, ma'am."
    She nodded, turning to Haven.
    He toked on the cigar and said, “The usual."
    She nodded again, turning to Derek, Caleb and me.
    "Guinness."
    "Bottle or tap?” She rested a hand on her hip impatiently.
    "There's only one way to drink a Guinness, sweetheart,” Derek drawled.
    She purposely ignored him and her eyes rested on me. I watched