Epigraph:

This is where I say I've had enough
And no one should ever feel the way that I feel now.
A walking open wound,
A trophy display of bruises and I don't believe that I'm getting any better
--- Dashboard Confessional, Saints and Sailors (The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most)

The Best Deceptions
By Kelly
li_luva_2000@yahoo.ca

Prologue To Disaster
September 18, 1987

He lifted his sensitive nostrils to the air. The deer had been by here very recently; the droppings were still warm. He was closing in.

Wolverine felt the familiar, primal urge bubble from deep within - the lust. The warm blood running over the cold metal claws, between his fingers, it was an almost tangible daydream. He closed his eyes, savoring each imaginary drop, trembling in near ecstacy. The hunt wasn't nearly as satisfying as the kill.

Logan pressed himself forward, close to the ground, in a crouch so low he needed his hands to stay balanced. He was just another animal in the shadowy asylum of the forest - just another predator. Sweat dripped from his hair. He drank in the smell of the salty-sweet liquid, so carnal, so natural, so real. He had been tracking the doe for over an hour. She was his.

The deer stopped in the dead center of a clearing - beautiful delicate ears pricked up in alert, soft black nose quivering to catch the scents carried on the wind, deep brown eyes searing the unassuming brush which hid Logan so wholly. She was so lovely, so perfect. At such a close range, Logan detected an all too familiar smell. This doe was too perfect.

He stood, exposing himself in full view of the deer, "Dammit, half-pint."

The doe jumped visibly, then began to change, shift almost. The hind legs elongated, the spine straightened, soft fur gave way to smooth skin, "Shit Logan, you nearly scared the fuck out of me."

Logan smiled a little, "I wouldn't want to do that, darlin'."

She gave him a playful grin, "Of course you wouldn't. Then what would we do?" She traced her palm along his bare chest, licking the sweat from his neck with a practiced tongue. He simply grunted. She played her lips in a pout, "Oh come on, don't be mad, Wolvie. I didn't mean for you to think I was a real dear." She batted her eyelashes in almost mock flirtation. She was teasing him. "Can you forgive me?"

He pulled back and studied her. The girl was only twenty, the youngest member of their little association. She was a fiery, curvy little number with a dirty mind and a love for carnage, much like himself. He had liked her right off. Her bright auburn hair fell over her eyes - yellow, sparkling, mischievous. The blue skin gave her an almost surreal appearance. He decided she was worth the trouble.

"I can think of a few things you can do to make it up to me Raven."

She smiled seductively, already teasing the button on his jeans, "Thank goodness you didn't scare all the fuck out of me."
Chapter 1