Page 9 of War Games

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CHAPTER THREE

Iwaved at my brother as he drove off, letting the men clean up the mess from lunch. I tried to ignore the whispering between Heath and Dirk, knowing the conversation was private. Niko hadn’t spoken at all about the incident with Landon, pretending as if it didn’t happen, and I didn’t bring it up. Now, Heath was taking a chance to really talk to Dirk while I saw Niko off. I had hoped Heath would wait until after dinner, but since Niko decided not to stay all afternoon, it was better to give Dirk the advice he needed now rather than later.

It wasn’t over by the time Niko disappeared from view, so I waited until I felt Niko leave the territory. Once I no longer had that to focus on, I turned my attention to the conversation to check what was going on before I went back inside.

“Dirk, you can’t let him?—”

I tuned back out, sighing heavily.

“I’m going for a walk,” I said loudly.

“Take your phone,” Heath replied instantly, cutting himself off from whatever he and Dirk were trying to work through about Landon. “Call anyone in the pack if you need anything.”

“I have it.” I hopped down the steps and started in a specific direction.

Landon’s.

I knew where Landon was on his run. I had felt it the entire time we ate lunch. It had been nearly an hour, and he was still going. He kept a grueling pace for his run, pushing his endurance, going around the woods, down streets, and through neighborhoods. He was either taking the most winding path back to his house possible, or he was really beating himself into the ground about his comment.

I walked in the beginning, even taking a moment to grab a bag from the security building with basic medical supplies and water we kept on hand if a wolf got hurt in training. I wouldn’t catch up to him, but since I had spent an hour tracking his movement through my territory, I had a feeling I knew where I could head him off. There was something predatory to the feeling, planning an ambush of prey that had no idea it was running straight into my trap. The way Landon was running told me there was little planning to it, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a pattern.

There was always a pattern, and I knew the area better than anyone, not needing a map to know what he was near at any given time. He was avoiding densely populated areas where people would be walking around, like grocery stores or gas stations. He was going around them, dipping back into the trees every time one blocked his path. He went into quiet neighborhoods but wasn’t jumping through backyards, just a man running instead of trespassing. Much of the land was owned by different people, but generally we were never caught on their land and left very little evidence if we could.

Once I was out of sight of the house, I started to run. Feeling the direction he was moving and taking my own shortcuts through my territory, it only took me twenty minutes to getwhere I wanted to be. My senses went on high alert as I made sure I would be downwind of him as he passed. He’d catch my scent in this part of the woods, but it was always there. He’d have to be paying attention to figure out how recent it was.

There, I waited another five minutes for the soft breeze to send his scent to me. It took another minute to hear his heavy breathing.

I stepped onto the trail, putting my hands in the pockets of my comfortable leather jacket, and waited, knowing by the time he saw me, it would be too late for him to avoid me. Even if he turned and ran, I was practically fresh, and he wasn’t. He was physically stronger than me now, but not faster, and he was quite literally run into the ground already.

Then I saw him make that turn and watched his surprise as his heels planted into the soft dirt so hard, there were drag marks as he forced his momentum to a hard stop. I knew it was the first time he stopped since he walked out of my house.

“Feeling better yet?” I asked, keeping my body relaxed, even as adrenaline pumped. My ambush had worked, and I was a predator. It was a thrill, certainly, but I didn’t want to indulge the adrenaline and make this into something it wasn’t supposed to be. “Or do you need to keep running for another hour and a half until you collapse in the middle of nowhere to be satisfied?”

It was like a damn breaking. He was barely breathing while I spoke, utterly shocked I had gotten the proverbial jump on him. Then he was breathing hard, chest heaving as his body caught up to the abuse he was giving it. He was running too hard, too fast, to maintain it for as long as he had. His pace was meant for sprints, not the insane endurance run he was putting himself through. I knew from experience that what he was doing was something really only done when a life depended on it.

He staggered, but as I took a step forward, he waved me off as he found a tree to lean on. I stayed silent as he leaned his back onthat tree, using it to help him get to the ground without falling. Once he was seated, I stepped closer again. He didn’t say or do anything to stop me this time, so I approached him, kneeling in front of him.

“Let me see your feet,” I said softly, already reaching for his shoes. He grumbled, but I could tell how much he pushed himself. He offered no fight as I yanked off a shoe, then a sock. My nose should have found it offensive, but I truly didn’t care. Sweaty people were a common scent, and there were things you learned to stop caring about, like feet.

Looking over the bleeding sores he had covering his feet, I clenched my jaw. It wasn’t common for that to happen to older or experienced Moon Cursed, but Landon wasn’t wearing running shoes and that was a mistake. He had on a nice pair that meant he probably had a work meeting he had now missed. Normally, a good pair of fresh running shoes could handle this, or just running barefoot would be the smarter choice. I got the second shoe and sock off, seeing the damage was the same on his left foot.

“Damn, Landon. If you were human, I’d take you to the hospital for this. You can’t let these heal in human form. You need to Change to heal if you want to walk in the next several days.”

“I will later,” Landon said, finally speaking up.

“That’s right. It will be later. Not much later, though. We’re going to talk, then you are going to Change and go home,” I said, patting his knee. I shifted to sit next to him now, leaning on the tree as well. “You’re lucky it’s me here instead of Heath or Dirk,” I said, my tone casual, but the comment was all too serious. It was difficult, trying to be casual through my teeth.

“I know,” he mumbled.

“If your father saw the damage you’ve done to yourself, he’d carry you home and give you an ass chewing while he took careof you.” Even as I spoke, my jaw was beginning to get stiff because I was talking through a clenched jaw. “At least walking barefoot won’t give you an infection, or at least not one that we have to worry about. And it’s me, not your father, or gods forbid, yourmate.”

Landon winced.

“What the fuck, Landon?” I finally snapped, unable to hold it back any longer.

“I know, Jacky,” he said, leaning away from me. “I’m sorry for what I said?—”

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