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Chapter Six: Suicide Kings
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Fuck.
Logan stood in the center of his room shaking with unspent rage. He could feel the points of his claws digging sharply into the backs of his knuckles as they strained for release. Body coiled and primed for action, he paced slowly in the darkness, too keyed up to remain still. It suited him - the blackness. Monstrous dark things lived in the shadows, and he was the darkest of them all. A silent snarl of fury twisted his features.
Fuck Jean an' her pathetic little attempts at revenge.
He felt a hot stick of pain as he gave into the overwhelming temptation to release his claws. It felt good. He clenched his fists and absorbed the pain, feeding off it, letting it fuel the black rage seething inside him. It did no good to fight it. That only made it more dangerous, more unpredictable. Instead he embraced it, as another man might embrace an old friend. In truth, he had a far more intimate relationship with pain and rage than he'd ever had with joy or peace. A low menacing growl rumbled deep in his chest.
Fuck Scott an' his bullshit games.
There was something there behind that blood red visor, something not quite right. His senses never lied. Scott smelled - off -somehow. He wasn't sure what game Scott was playing, but he was damn sure going to find out. He'd always relished a good hunt and if Scott was the prey, then that only made a good thing better.
He stepped into the square of moonlight reflecting dimly off the satiny wood of the floor and glared at his surroundings. Cloaked in a mantle of darkness it was a pretty cage, but a cage nonetheless. Actually, it was worse than a cage because it had no bars, no locks. The only thing that kept him here was his own desire to stay.
Fuck this place an' what it does to ya.
This fucking place messed with a man. Twisted him all up inside until nothing made any Goddamn sense. Made him think about things he was never meant to think about. Made him want things he wasn't supposed to have. It was relentless. It just kept twisting and twisting until-
Arrrghhhh... He spun and lashed out, slashing at the invisible demons. Christ. He dropped into a fighting crouch and sheathed his claws with a quiet snikt. His chest heaved and he drew in a great gulp of air, only to have the scent that still clung to his clothes sicken him.
Scott.
The lingering smell disgusted him. He tore at his shirt, uncaring that buttons popped and seams gave. He flung it as far away from him as possible, grunting with satisfaction as it came to rest in a dark corner. Angrily, he jerked off his boots and socks, irritated at them for slowing him down. He wanted that scent off him. Now.
Bitch.
How dare she come to him smelling like that? She knew what he wanted from her, and she knew damn well what that scent would do to him. She actually had the gall - the fucking gall - to try to manipulate him into touching her. That way she could pretend, afterwards, that none of it had been her fault. That way she could absolve herself of any guilt. Big bad Logan taking advantage of poor innocent Jean.
Fuck that.
A nasty smile crossed his face. If she thinks that's the way it's gonna be, she's got another thing comin'.
Before tonight, all he'd wanted from her was some simple gesture of acquiescence. He wanted to see her admit to wanting him, wanted to see her acknowledge her part in what was about to happen. But that was before. Now that wasn't enough. Now he wanted to hear her beg for it. That way, when all was said and done, there would be no hiding from the truth.
His hands went to his fly and his fingers brushed over damp denim. His nostrils flared. He could smell her. He could smell himself, and under it all he could smell Scott. With a mute snarl, he stripped off his jeans and violently kicked them away.
He strode naked to the shower and turned up the water as hot as he could stand it. He washed quickly, efficiently, ridding himself of the unwanted scent, eradicating every trace of them from his skin. With the unnatural stillness of a predator, he stood there under the scalding spray, still furious and still uncomfortably aroused. What had happened downstairs had only taken the edge off the worst of his hunger. It was still there, simmering dangerously, just under the surface.
He felt no remorse for what had happened. He wasn't sorry for anything he'd said or done tonight. Red had pushed him too far and had gotten exactly what she deserved. Now she knew she couldn't manipulate him and the next time she came to him - and he knew there would be a next time - it would be on his terms.
Goddamn right, it'll be on my fuckin' terms.
That crap downstairs, that didn't have a damn thing to do with attraction or lust. It was about power and control. She thought that just because he wanted her, that it gave her some kind of power over him. She thought she held all the cards in this little game of theirs. Well, think again, Red, 'cause tonight you gambled - and lost. Even though he wanted her, she couldn't push him into fucking her.
Learned that the hard way, didn't ya darlin'?
A feral smile played at the corner of his mouth. Winning that particular battle of wills had felt good. Real fuckin' good. He didn't dwell on the fact that her harsh words had cut deeply and that for an instant he'd felt an overwhelming desire to possess her so completely that the only scent he'd ever smell on her again would be his own.
He shook his head to clear his mind of those disturbing thoughts and nudged the temperature up a little higher, letting the moist heat sink into his bones.
The shit she'd tried to pull tonight just wasn't gonna fly with him. She'd gotten too used to dealing with men she could control. He wasn't like that. It was, in part, what excited her about him. She couldn't control him and she couldn't anticipate his response. He leaned back against the cool tile of the shower and stroked himself roughly a few times before his hand fell away. It wouldn't be enough. Not now. He leaned his head back, resting it against the slick tile.
He couldn't explain why he wanted her. Like most women he found attractive, she exuded an air of strength and beauty with strong undercurrents of sex and violence, but with her it was something more. She had a darkness, a wildness she tried to keep locked away inside her. He wasn't consciously aware that the sleeping beast she harbored spoke directly to the animal inside of him. It called to him on the most basic level and he responded instinctively.
Sometimes it escaped her control, and when it did he fought against the primal urge to throw her down and take her, matching her wildness stroke for vicious stroke. He'd seen the dark fire gleam in her eyes, seen the guilty pleasure in them as she commanded her kills. He wanted to release it fully and watch her revel in it as she allowed it to consume her.
He got out of the shower and dried himself, ignoring his erection as he redressed. He still needed a fuck - or a fight. The black rage that had gripped him earlier had subsided to a dull roar. At this point it wouldn't take much to send him over the edge. He wasn't safe to be around right now and he knew it.
He also knew he couldn't leave. Jean would know she'd gotten to him. Christ, he needed some kind of release, and needed it now. He would have preferred to fuck her until she screamed, but that wasn't an option - yet. He chuckled darkly.
He was outside the Danger Room almost before he realized he was in motion.
Three A.M.? Who the fuck's in there at three A.M.?
"Computer, terminate program. Override authorization Logan alpha four."
Well, what d'ya know.
That was the first useful thing he'd ever been able to do with the clearance Chuck had given him. Probably not the use Charles had intended, but fuck 'em. The bottom line was he needed to blow off some steam and he needed it now. Chuck could look on it as protecting the students for all he cared. It didn't matter - just so long as they got the fuck out.
"Program terminated." The door whirred open and the synthesized voice spoke again. "Welcome, Logan."
Inside, the six people turned to stare at him as their programmed environment disappeared around them. The last of their shouts echoed loudly against the sleek lines of the now-bare walls.
Apparently, he'd interrupted a little impromptu game of 'capture the flag', mutant style.
"Get out." He crossed his arms over his powerful chest. "Now."
He stepped aside, leaving them a clear path and waited impatiently just outside the door. He knew better than to step inside a confined space with six other people when he was this close to losing control. He might be an animal at times, but he wasn't stupid and he'd never purposefully put any of them in danger.
Rogue left without a word. Whatever part of him still left in her head must have told her he wasn't in the mood to be fucked with.
"Dude, you're SO dead. I was just about to-" Jubilee looked over at him as she passed through the doorway and stopped in mid sentence. "C'mon chica, let's bail. Tall dark and feral, here, looks like he's gonna snap any minute now. She grabbed Kitty and left in uncharacteristic silence.
Christ, kid. That was a little too close to the mark. He growled at Bobby and Remy as they followed the girls out. Hank emerged last, wearing an apologetic smile and ready to explain how he'd allowed himself to become involved in such a juvenile pursuit.
"Ahhh, Logan. I was just-" He, too, broke off at the look on Logan's face. His brows drew together as he took in the measure of the man standing before him. Finally he nodded sagely. "As a doctor, I feel it's my duty to-'
"No." The word was growled through clenched teeth. "No safeties. Not tonight." Without a backwards glance, Logan stepped through the doorway and allowed the lust fueled rage to consume him.