Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
"Yeat's understatement, that 'mere anarchy is loosed upon the world' was his condemnation of the war, and, might I say, be a fitting sentiment for what we've encountered here lately," the professor said, to a nervous titter of half-swallowed laughter, and uncomfortable squirminess.
Bella's own shaking silence was lost amongst the louder uncertainty of her peers.
The disappearances had only grown, and the discovery of bodies, mostly burnt, or grotesquely mutilated, had made for a conservative culture on campus. Students walked in pairs to classes, night or day, and the parties that had dotted the first semester had vanished in the second.
Edward had abandoned all pretense of his own classes, sitting in on her lectures where his presence was unnoticed, or tolerated by the more observant professors, but her classes were large, and such creatures were rare.
Jasper was restless. His presence was edgy, and Bella could practically palpate his mood, so substantial were the feelings he radiated.
They all felt it, and it was only late at night, one cool Wednesday, that Bella asked Edward. "Why is Jasper so upset about all of this?"
She felt the slightest stiffening in Edward's arm, and turned to him, shrewdly examining his impassive face. "What is it?" she asked, more assertive.
Edward paused, considering his answer. "Jasper," he began, "had a very different...upbringing, from the rest of us."
"And?" Bella asked, only intrigued by this vague answer.
Edward said nothing else yet, still trying to wrangle his way out of worrying her with what she was asking, as well as trying to sift through what Jasper had told him, as opposed to what he'd heard in his mind.
"I'll just go ask Alice then," she said, moving to stand. Two very cold hands pulled her back.
"I will explain," he said, "but, just," he sighed, "do you trust me? Do you trust us? To keep you safe?"
"Yes," she said, without hesitation.
He nodded, accepting this. "Jasper's early years were spent managing armies of vampires. Newborn armies," he said, and continued his explanation. By the time he finished, Bella was paler than usual, trying to still the trembling that wanted to grip her.
"An army?"
Edward shook his head. "Not here, no, but several newborns, yes."
"What would the difference be?" she asked.
"Numbers, and someone to coordinate them," he said, "and we've not had a whiff of that. Just...the chaos of untrained vampires, run amok." He shook his head. "We'll need to do something, soon, if it doesn't get better, before the Volturi intervene. I'm surprised they haven't already."
This time Bella allowed the shudder out of her shoulders. He'd explained, in too casual detail, what the Volturi were, and what they did, and she couldn't keep enough space between herself and them, mentally, or otherwise. "What rough beast," she muttered under her breath.
"You're safe, Bella. You'll be fine. Even if you quote Yeats at me," he smiled.
She'd accepted, with reluctant trust, this belief, but her worry lurked, and rose, tendrils ready to insert themselves in the tender places of her mind, at the slightest provocation. She wasn't surprised by the repeated nightmares about red-eyed monsters crawling out of cradles.
It was something of a relief then, when she answered a knock at the door a few days later, and found Jacob Black standing there.
"Jake!" she said, before succumbing to his enthusiastic hug.
She could imagine Edward's teeth grinding together, even if she couldn't hear them, behind her though, as the embrace lasted beyond what it should. She pushed, rather than pulled herself away, gently.
"So," he said, "shackin' up with vampires, huh?" and waved casually at Alice, who had joined Edward at the door.
She replied with a tart, "You know Bella, the lease does say no pets. That includes dogs."
"Sure Alice. The lease. You mean, for the house you own?" Bella replied, just as pertly.
This earned a chuckle from Edward, and Jacob's shoulders released their tension just a bit.
Edward spoke next, gesturing that Jacob should come in. "You know, we do have phones. Sam could have called."
Bella looked at Jacob, walking beside him to the couch. He half smiled at her. "Can't blame me for wanting to deliver the message in person. I wanted to see you," he added more quietly.
"What's the message?" she asked, looking at Edward, and then back to Jacob.
Jacob sighed, preparing to answer, but Edward beat him to it. "They've caught the scent of a vampire at your Dad's. Inside the house."
"What!" She half shrieked, "I thought you were watching him?"
"They are," Edward said, "but not the house, not when he isn't there."
"Oh," she said, adding "of course," shaking her head.
"It looks like they took things," Edward continued. "Your things."
"How would you know—?" Bella began.
Edward lifted his eyebrows at Jacob to answer this one.
"You done?" he asked, an uncharacteristically nasty tint to his voice. "Anything else you'd care to know?"
"If you don't yell them at me," Edward clenched out, "I won't be able to hear them."
"Well I can't help it, can I? That I think," Jacob snarled.
They were both standing at this point, and Bella positioned herself between them. Her own teeth were clenched. "Calm. Down." she told them both. "Or I'll put both of you outside."
They both looked at her incredulously.
"And Alice will help me," she added.
When they both sat down again, facing each other, she took a seat perpendicular to them, making them an awkward triangle around the coffee table. "How did you know, Jacob? That they took things?"
"Um," he began, "when I'm on patrol, I sometimes check your room," he said awkwardly.
Edward snorted. "Snoop, more like," he muttered.
"Edward," Bella said, her voice full of warning. "Why would they take my things?" she asked, looking between them. "And what did they take?" she asked, her brow furrowed, wondering what she'd left that would be worth taking.
"Clothes, a pillow," Jacob said, shrugging.
"Things with your scent," Edward said. He looked at Jacob meaningfully.
The implications of this statement trickled down through Bella's natural defenses, and she felt very, very cold, wrapping her arms around herself.
"You'll be fine," Edward said. "No one will hurt you."
She nodded, but looked at Jacob. "Was there more? That you came to tell us?"
Jacob's mouth twisted to the side as he looked at Edward. "We wanted to know if you were going to get a handle on what's going on here, before it spreads," he said. "Or if you need help."
"Help?" Edward laughed, "from a pack of dogs? In the middle of the city?" He asked, adding snidely, "I'm sure that won't draw any unwanted attention at all."
"Well you certainly haven't dealt with it yet," Jacob snapped back.
"We'll deal with it in our own time," Edward said, standing, and moving away to the window.
"Why not now?" Jacob said.
He hated to admit it, but they were stretched thin, between everyone they needed to watch. "We have...responsibilities here. That prevent us from taking on an assault at this point."
"Then let us help," Jacob said, his voice suddenly calmer, taken aback by this deprecating honesty.
Bella had stood too, nervous that they weren't sitting, worried by the too energetic movement of Jacob's hands. He was worked up, and it wasn't just over the business at hand.
Edward moved back towards her, taking her hand in his. "No," he said, speaking to another silent thought, "nothing will happen to her. I'll keep her safe."
Jacob was staring at their hands, linked together. His upper lip fought to keep from curling into a possessive snarl. He inhaled sharply instead. "Right," he said. "That worked so well last time," remembering her broken leg, and then her broken heart.
Edward winced, seeing what he remembered.
"Ugly, isn't it?" Jacob said. "What you protecting her looks like. Maybe you'll accept our offer this time." He turned, not wanting to hear more of Edward, and walked to the door. "Bye Bella," he said softly, and not waiting for a reply, opened it and left.
The sudden lump at her throat was attributable to so many things, swirling in the soup of her mind. She breathed in, and out, processing what she'd heard.
Jacob's own feelings were a heady mix to handle as he walked to the outer, wooded reaches of the campus. That she had chosen him, him, of all creatures, who had hurt her so much, festered underneath his love for her. It'd taken all his self-control to not lash out at him, watching him touch her.
He threw his malice into his run, and settled himself into the long journey back to Forks.
Author's note: Yeat's poem, "The Second Coming," always reminds me of the contrast of expectations that swirl around the battle in Eclipse. People expect such resolution from it, but in the end, it only brings something worse: The Volturi. If you've read the poem, there are some nice dark parallels there.
