Logan had just come back to the Haven, grim faced and heavy hearted. He had given in to his urge to hurt those who had hurt his little girl. He had indulged in violence to sate his hunger for feeling like he was in control of something after letting his son go out into the world alone. At the end of the day, there was less regret than a resigned acceptance. He had put some pretty heavy duty dirtbags out of commission. For good. If he were just a little less human, he would have said it was practically his civic duty to take out the trash. The good, decent people at the Haven didn't need to know. Neither did the seedier element present there, for that matter. He would report to James, who was no stranger to such necessities, and that was it.
He parked and walked to the house, but his senses were on edge even before he reached the front door. Two scents he recognized lingered there. One was Laura's friend, the stripper they'd brought with them. He gagged a little, recognizing the stench of death and her blood on the front steps. The other scent was of the strange woman who had put him in a coma in that booby trapped facility some days back. It seemed like a lifetime ago, except a man did not forget someone who sucked the life out of them and made them pass out into a coma for a few days.
An open door revealed broken dishes, and the stink of fear, regret, tears, anguish. The healer boy had been here too. Logan snarled and out came the claws. If that woman Rogue had come here looking for trouble, she sure as hell had found it, he thought even as he ran inside, following the scents to their current location in the infirmary. If his nose had failed, all he had to do was follow the raised voices. This couldn't be good. And where the fuck was security, taking a fucking smoking break, he thought impatiently?
"Ya do this to her, frail?" Logan growled at Rogue, low and dangerous, after taking one look at Lotte's body. "I think y'better step away from them, darlin', before things get real ugly."