A/N: Twilight is the property of Stephanie Meyer. Anya Simms is all mine.

Chapter 37: Nomads

JPOV

Sun March 13/05

How the fuck did things spiral so fast? What did Anya know and why didn't she say anything?

One moment I'm watching her, during a lull in the game and there she was in her own world, lost in the rhythm of "All Revved Up with No Place to Go," dancing like nothing else mattered, like she wasn't surrounded by vampires who could crush mountains with their hands. That carefree abandon was pure Anya, a wild mix of joy and defiance. Damn how I loved that emotional cocktail and just as I was about to opening myself up and drink it in, she froze.

Mid-spin.

Her bright, carefree expression drained away, replaced by a blankness that sent a chill through me. I didn't need to reach out with my gift to feel the dread settling over her. It was thick, almost palpable.

This was worse than the night she asked me to kill her.

And then Alice's voice sliced through the heavy silence. It's too late. She didn't need to say more. I saw it in her eyes, the vision that had just snapped into place. Nomads. They were coming, and we were out in the open with not one, but two humans—one of them Bella, the danger magnet as Emmett had nicknamed her.

Anya's fear slammed into me—pure, unfiltered panic. I'd never felt her this terrified before. Fuck, I almost wished it was the night she had asked me to kill her, the grief was better than this. Instinct took over, pushing me toward her. I had to protect her, comfort her—anything to drain that deadly toxic cocktail. The others closed in too, forming a protective circle around Anya and Bella, ready to shield them from whatever was coming.

I heard her chanting softly under her breath, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," over and over. Eddie boy's simmering rage radiated toward her, a sharp contrast to the fear pouring out of her. I could feel his frustration, his anger at her.

Emotional whiplash is a thing and when I went to stand next to her, to reach out and comfort her, something shifted. Her wild, frantic eyes suddenly narrowed, and I felt her emotions twist in a way that caught me off guard. The panic was still there, but she was forcing it down, crushing it with a raw determination. And then, what the actual fuck? She started channeling… boredom?

It was like watching a deer stare down a semi and think, 'Yeah, bring it on.' She was trying to act like these nomads were nothing, just a hiccup. But we all knew better. Hell, she knew better. I knew she knew better, so what the actual fuck?

This sudden shift threw me off. Half of me felt proud of her, the other half wanted to knock some sense into her. Anya was tough, sure, but this? This was reckless.

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a subtle shake of her head, a silent message to trust her. Reluctantly, I turned my attention to the nomads. As they approached and started talking, I could feel Anya maintaining that bizarre calm, still channeling boredom as if she were trying to convince herself that none of this mattered.

When the eyes of the younger male, James, lingered on her, I sensed a small spike of fear—a flash of genuine terror that flared up in her. But just as quickly, she smothered it, forcing that fear down into the same dull boredom she'd been projecting.

When the nomad's eyes drifted back to Anya a second time, I instinctively moved closer, brushing my arm against hers in a subtle gesture of reassurance sending her my own silent message: I wouldn't let him—or any of the nomads—near her. The contact was brief, but in that split second, I felt her emotions shift wildly. Calm turned to fear, sharp and overwhelming, but then, just as quickly, it morphed into something else—annoyance. The fear was clearly directed at the nomad, but the annoyance? That was aimed squarely at me.

What the hell Anya?

I didn't even have a second to process what the hell was going on with her before the nomads finally turned and left. The moment the nomads disappeared into the trees, Anya crumpled. All that bravado? Gone. She hit the ground, gasping for air, and for a moment, I was genuinely afraid she might faint right there in front of me. I was so preoccupied with trying to calm her down, my focus entirely on her ragged breaths and the erratic swirl of emotions crashing through her, that I didn't even see Eddie Boy until he was nearly upon us, yanking Anya up like she was a ragdoll. Before I could even react, he had her in his grip, his voice already firing off.

"What the hell was that about, Anya?" Edward's voice was sharp, like he was barely holding it together. The cocktail of panic and anger rolling off him was competing with the storm of emotions ripping through Anya. Great, more fucking emotional whiplash.

Anya, still trying to catch her breath, stared up at him, confused. "What are you talking about?" she gasped out, her voice barely there.

"Really, Anya? You knew this could happen, and you didn't say a damn thing? How could you? Do you know what I heard in James' mind?" Edward practically spat the name out. But that wasn't the real issue here—Fucker's panic was laced with something nastier. Blame. A lot of it.

Bella.

I felt the shift in Anya—guilt and anger crashing together. She was holding on by a thread, and I could feel the guilt eating at her, but then that familiar spark of rage took over. It flared up so strong I had to step back. I wasn't about to be in the line of fire for what was coming next.

You've done it now Fucker. I thought smugly at my brother.

"Do not put your hands on me, Edward," she snapped, her voice shaking, but not from fear—she was pissed. She stepped back, her body vibrating with anger. "Yeah, I know exactly what James was thinking. And you're wasting time screaming at me about it."

Human – vampire smackdown! I saw the flicker of fear in Edward's eyes, but he wasn't about to back off just yet. Stupid Fucker.

"If you care so much about your precious Bella, then get her the fuck out of here and stop wasting time on me," she bit out, venom in every word. And the worst part? She was right. Eddie boy knew it too. His face hardened, and for a second, I thought he was gonna argue, but then it hit him. Without another word, he took off, all that righteous anger redirected as he sped toward Bella. At least he was doing something useful now.

Fuck, my woman truly hated my brother's stupidity.

The second Eddie boy took off, with Bella's shrieks chasing after him, I felt the adrenaline start to drain out of Anya. She was still rattled, still raw from everything that went down, but there was something else now—a new resolve. I could feel it, like she'd patched herself together just enough to push forward.

She looked at me, her voice shaky but getting firmer. "Us too, Tex. Back to the house. Time is ticking."

I didn't bother responding, just gave her a nod. She was right. We couldn't waste any more time. I whipped her onto my back and raced back home. Well shit, I just pulled an Eddie boy running around with a fragile human on my back. Well, at least I wasn't climbing 120-foot trees, that damn idiot! I shoved those thoughts aside as once we arrived home, Anya disappeared into the house, her emotions still that tangled mess, dark, scared, fear. Fuck, I hated it, I wanted and needed her baseline emotional cocktail.

Meanwhile, the rest of us gathered in the garage, and Bella was losing it. She was pacing, her eyes wide, darting between us like we had some magic solution. Desperate for a plan, any plan. Did we have a plan? Or was this a wait and see scenario, again? My creator seemed to like those. No, turns out we had something of a plan with Carlisle who was trying to keep Bella calm, suggesting that Rosalie and Esme wear some of the singer's clothes to spread her scent and throw James off the trail. From Edward's terse explanation, I learned that James was a tracker—a deadly one. He'd stay behind with Emmett and Carlisle to keep the tracker occupied while Alice and I took Bella down south.

Great, just what we fucking needed, a tracker. See what I mean about a danger magnet?

I could hear Anya tearing through the house, her emotions wild, bouncing from one thought to the next so fast I could barely keep up. Whatever was going on in her head had me uneasy—I couldn't tell what she was planning, and that wasn't a good sign.

Then, just as quickly as she'd disappeared, she reappeared. Barefoot. Wearing Esme's clothes.

What the fuck, Anya?

The change was jarring. Gone was the vibrant girl who'd been dancing at the baseball field not even an hour ago. What stood before me was like a ghost of her—focused, determined, all business.

She didn't say a word at first, just dropped her clothes into a pile on the floor, everything she'd been wearing moments earlier. "Here," she said, voice sharp, clipped. Like this was just another box to tick off. "Use mine too. Whatever could help." I saw the lace of her panties poking out, the faint trace of her scent too. Was Anya going commando? And I couldn't even enjoy this?! Damnit!

She wasn't done, though. I watched as she removed every last piece of jewelry, each item set down with deliberate precision on top of the pile. Her hair accessories followed, each one slipped out with quick, practiced movements. It struck me then—if she could have, she probably would have left her glasses on the pile too, but some things she just couldn't discard.

Then came the kicker. Her MP3 player, the one she never let out of arm's reach, got placed on top of the pile. I knew what that thing meant to her—how she used it to find the perfect song for every moment. The fact she was willing to part with it now? That spoke volumes. But damned if I could figure out what she was saying.

What the fuck are you up to, Anya?

She wasn't finished, either. She'd found one of Esme's hats, and in one swift motion, she shoved all of her blonde hair under it. Watching her, I felt a mix of admiration and concern twisted in my chest. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. It was as if she'd made a decision, and now she was charging ahead with it, no matter what. And then, before anyone could respond, she turned on her heel and raced back into the house, yelling for Carlisle to follow her.

I felt it then—a spike of urgency from her, sharp and desperate. This wasn't just about helping with the plan. She had something else brewing. I shot a quick glance at Alice, who nodded, already seeing the threads of Anya's intentions, even if the full picture wasn't clear yet.

What the fuck was Anya up to that required her to go commando and dress in Esme's clothes? This really wasn't my kink.

Whatever Anya was up to, time wasn't on our side. The clock was ticking down fast. Edward was already gone, and we were pulling our things together for the car when Anya slipped quietly into the backseat. She was careful not to touch the outside of the car, her expression tight, focused. Her left arm was held close to her body, like she was protecting something.

Something was definitely off, and then I caught it—a quick, sharp scent that sent a jolt through me.

Fresh blood. Now this was my kink. Damn, she smelled delicious.

I stiffened, my grip on the steering wheel tightening as the realization hit me. She'd obviously asked Carlisle to draw blood but I couldn't figure out why. The scent was unmistakable, and it was stronger than I'd anticipated. Before I could fully process the implications, her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. For a brief moment, I saw a flicker of something—sorrow, regret—but she quickly pushed it aside, replacing it with sheer love for me, so forcefully that it was almost unnatural, like she was locking her true fear away behind an impenetrable wall.

"I'm sorry, Jasper," she said softly, her voice quick but steady. "As much as it would probably be wise to roll the windows down, we can't. Not until we've put some distance between us and James. But you've got this, okay? Focus on the task ahead—drive. Alice I'm sure will tell us the moment we can get some fresh air in the car, okay?"

She didn't wait for me to respond. Instead, she turned to Alice. "Alice, when we get to Bella's, we need to convince Edward—no lingering goodbyes. The sooner she's in the car, the less chance my… scent can escape."

I didn't need her to spell it out. She knew exactly what James was—a tracker, relentless and deadly. And of course, he was fixated on her now, just like Bella. Eddie boy did share that with us before he left with Bella. I wondered if Anya hated this trope, or if she had some overly dramatic interpretation of it, like when Eddie boy revealed himself to Bella in that ridiculous lion and lamb moment. Either way, my growing dislike for the creator of this mess was cranking up another notch. The scent of her blood could take this from dangerous to disastrous in seconds, and she was doing everything she could to keep that from happening. But it didn't make my fear for her any less real.

Fuck.

She took the words right out of my mind as she rushed on. "I know what James is—a tracker," Anya said, her voice steady despite the weight of it. "I wish I could remember more of the plot, but since I was at the field with Bella, I think it's moot now." She paused, frustration flickering across her face before she pushed it aside. "So, I offered a donation to Carlisle to help drive the tracker crazy. Hence the sudden wardrobe change."

Well, shit. I really was that special kind of stupid.

It all made sense now—why she ditched her clothes, her jewelry, even her MP3 player. She was throwing out false trails, using her scent to mess with James, buy us some time. Clever, sure, but there was something else going on beneath the surface. The way she moved, holding herself so tight, so careful—it wasn't just about the danger at hand. It was the fact that she knew exactly what she'd done.

Damn you Anya, this is a hell of a spot to find myself in!

Anya knew what an open wound meant to me—how the smell of fresh blood drove me wild. And she did it anyway, knowing I'd be fighting my inner monster the whole time. The scent of her was… intoxicating, and she'd done it on purpose. That's my kind of kink, and damn if it didn't make things ten times harder. She'd made a calculated decision to put me in this situation, to protect the others. Even if it meant pushing me to my limits.

I kept my eyes locked on the road, focusing on the task at hand, just as she'd told me. Her scent filled the car, sharp and intoxicating, tugging at the monster inside me that I fought to control. The bloodlust was real, gnawing at me, but then I caught her gaze in the rearview mirror once more.

And in that moment, it wasn't the bloodlust that overwhelmed me—it was her. The way she looked at me, with a love so deep, so unwavering, I knew she saw me for more than what my creator had written. I wasn't just the struggling vegetarian vampire who'd fed on humans for seven decades, always on the verge of slipping. To her, I was more. She trusted me completely, had total faith that I'd keep it together. She loved me that much.

Damn, I loved this woman.

That love—stronger than the pull of her blood, stronger than anything else—was what kept me in control. What made me believe I could be more than the monster I was written to be.

Pulling onto Bella's street, I felt Anya shift in the backseat, moving to sit directly behind me. Her tension spiked, focus narrowing to a laser point. She leaned forward, her voice firm and clear, loud enough for Edward to hear despite being inside Bella's house while we waited in the car.

"Edward, just get Bella in the car. No lingering goodbyes, no rolled windows, use your v speed if you have to—get her in the damn car. Jasper won't be stopping. Think of this as a drive-by, got it?"

Her words were sharp, leaving no room for argument. I could feel the urgency in every syllable. Anya wasn't taking any chances.

Stupid fucker! I yelled in my mind towards Eddie boy who was still arguing with Bella about what the hell to pack. Seriously? Anya didn't do that!

Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, catching that familiar love and determination mingling in her expression, a thought gnawed at me. Once again, we were here because of Eddie boy's recklessness with humans. Playing baseball? Bringing Bella along? That had been his bright idea. And now we were dealing with the fallout—again. It wasn't my plan to put two humans in this much danger, but here we were.

Normally, I'd spend my Sunday nights at Anya's place, in her home office, reading books while she worked away on her dissertation. Maybe we'd dance in her living room or go crazy and make out like a couple of teenagers on her couch. Maybe I'd steal another base and take a pair of her panties home with me again. Maybe tonight would have been the night she'd invite me upstairs. But nope. Not tonight. Tonight, I'm crammed in a car, fleeing town with two humans—one of them with an open wound—in an enclosed space, with a nomadic vampire tracker who thinks Anya and Bella are snacks on my tail. Oh, and my ex-lover for company.

And who's the reckless vampire now? Oh yeah, that's right—me. Jasper.

I couldn't figure out Anya's determination to help Edward. I knew how much our creator's love story between my brother and Bella grated on her—she'd told me more times than I could count how wrong it all felt. And yet, here she was, setting all that aside to help him out.

But me? If the tables were turned, I sure as fuck wouldn't be lifting a finger to help Heathcliff and The Duck. Screw that. I'd be the selfish vampire, leaning back, letting the idiot man-child figure it out while I kept my human—my woman—safe. Preferably upstairs in her bed and me stealing bases. Now that's my kinda baseball.

Approaching Bella's house, I slowed the car just enough for Edward to do what he needed to do, the engine humming low in anticipation. Anya was right—this was a drive-by. Now, to say Bella was confused would be an understatement. One moment, she was standing on her front porch, and the next, she was practically thrown into the car with vampire speed. The look on her face was a mix of shock and bewilderment, her mind racing to catch up with what had just happened.

Anya didn't waste a second. The moment The Duck was in the car, she focused on buckling her in, her movements quick but gentle. Once Bella was secure, Anya leaned in closer, her voice soft but firm as she spoke.

"Bella, there's something you need to know," she began, her tone steady, though there was an underlying urgency. "Edward probably didn't tell you everything, and I get why—he's trying to protect you. But you deserve to know the truth."

Bella's wide eyes locked onto Anya's, still processing the whirlwind she'd been swept into.

Yep, stupid Fucker kept the human in the dark, again.

Anya continued, her voice calm despite the tension in the air. "James… he's a tracker. And that means once he locks onto a target, he won't stop. He's fixated on you, Bella, and we're doing everything we can to keep you safe. That's why we need to move fast, without hesitation. We need to get distance between us and him."

He's also fixated on you Anya and you've got an open wound, damn that blood!

Anya paused just long enough for Bella to nod, a flicker of understanding and fear in her eyes. Then Anya leaned in closer, her tone firm but laced with urgency. "Bella, I'm only going to say this once, so please, for the love of all that is holy—this is no time for thrilling heroics, okay? You listen to EVERYTHING Alice and Jasper say. Got it? Don't second-guess them, and definitely don't think you can pull off some last-minute save for Eddie boy. He's more than capable of doing what needs to be done. You just focus on staying safe and doing exactly what you're told. Got it?"

Thrilling heroics?! What the fuck did my creator write?!

Bella nodded again, this time more firmly, though her anxiety was clear. Anya's expression softened, her voice gentling as she continued. "Edward did tell you about Jasper's gift, right? About how he can influence emotions? If you're feeling overwhelmed, would you mind if he helped, you know, send you off to sleep? It might make all this a little easier to handle."

Anya's tone was compassionate, understanding the swirling thoughts inside Bella's mind. She was all about giving her agency and control in a very overwhelming situation. Bella hesitated for a moment, then nodded, her trust in Anya clear.

Duh, she's the most trusting of us all.

Once Anya was satisfied that the teenager beside her was sound asleep and no longer under the effects of my gift, I finally asked the question I'd been dreading. "Thrilling heroics?"

Anya sighed, the weight of it all pressing down on her. "Tex, I really wish I could remember what that idiot teen does, but I don't. I'm sorry." She rubbed her temples, frustration evident in her voice. "But… well, there's a reason 'tweens look up to her, while the adults? They're more inclined to give her a good shake."

Her words hung in the air, a mix of regret and concern. It was clear that whatever Bella had done—or might do—had left an impression on Anya, even if the details were fuzzy.

Just fucking wonderful, we have a danger magnet holding a wild card with a nomadic tracker on our trail. Could this night get any better?

The further south we drove, the more I could feel the tension easing out of Anya. Her regular calm was gradually replacing the anxiety and terror that had gripped her earlier. She was settling down, her breathing steadying, her emotions less chaotic. It was a relief to sense her regaining control. Yes! Emotional cocktail drink it in! Damnit Whitlock, don't think of drinking!

Glancing at her through the rearview mirror, I decided to lighten the mood a bit and distract myself from that fucking delicious cocktail swirling around mixed with the faint scent of her blood, and other bodily scents rising from the fact she was going commando. "I'd say a human acting bored when faced with three nomadic 'vegetarians' is a bit reckless," I teased, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

It worked. Anya perked up, a hint of pride in her voice as she responded, "You felt that?"

"Yeah, Anya," I replied with a chuckle. "And like I said, not exactly the reaction I was expecting—especially given you were the only one out there on the field giving off an air of boredom." Even Alice was curious, her head tilting slightly as she waited for an explanation.

From the back seat, I heard Anya's light laughter. "Oh, Tex—I was thinking of my dissertation. How female resistance workers were often couriers because it was easier for them to move about, and the Germans were less likely to question them. They were chosen because they could act carefree and slightly bored, to avoid drawing suspicion. So, I thought, what the hell, focus on that. Instead of a trio of red-eyed vegetarians, I imagined I was just passing through a checkpoint."

I couldn't help but smile at her reasoning. Leave it to Anya to find a way to channel historical strategy into a life-or-death situation.

Alice merely stared at her incredulously. "You were pretending they were Germans?" she asked, her tone a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Anya shrugged, a sly grin spreading across her face. "Hey, it worked, didn't it? Better than panicking, and I needed something to focus on." She paused before cheekily glancing at me. "Until Jasper here decided to draw unnecessary attention to me by brushing up against me. Really, Tex, you truly are a special kind of stupid!"

Ahh, so that was why I felt that spike of annoyance directed at me. I did that. "So that's what that was about," I muttered, shaking my head with a rueful smile. "I thought I was helping."

Anya rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of affection in her exasperation. "Next time, Tex, try to blend in a little better."

In due time, Anya fell asleep in the backseat. But when, after a few hours, Alice suggested we pull over, Anya woke up quickly, careful not to disturb Bella beside her, and started rummaging through her bag.

What the fuck was she doing now? Here we were, parked on the side of the road, and she was thinking about another wardrobe change?

Oh, I truly am a special kind of stupid.

Watching her dash out of the car and into the verge off to the side, it hit me. She was trying to remove any lingering trace of blood from the clothes and bandages she was wearing—for me. Anya quickly shed Esme's clothes and the bandages from her arm with a determined efficiency that made me feel both frustrated and grateful.

The first time I see Anya topless and it's at the side of the road with my ex-lover in the car and the danger magnet. Damnit, I can't even enjoy this! I pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on how Anya wasn't just thinking about keeping James off our trail. She was thinking about me, about how even the faintest scent of her blood could push me ever close to the edge I had been fighting the entire drive south. Goodbye, sweet blood. I knew you well.

Just as quickly, Anya was back in the car. I felt a trace of vanity? What, Anya?

"Merde." she muttered, more to herself than anyone else, glancing down at the t-shirt and flannel button-down in muted browns that Bella seemed to favour. Anya was all about bold pops of colour and sophistication, so seeing her in Bella's subdued tones, paired with Esme's soft blue yoga pants, clearly sparked some annoyance.

Alice merely laughed. "I know, Anya—her fashion sense is the worst!"

"Hmm, true, Alice," she responded, "and while I know you love to assist, do try to remember she isn't a doll for your amusement."

Alice rolled her eyes playfully, but I could tell she got the message. Anya gave a small, appreciative smile, though the annoyance still lingered as she tugged at the mismatched outfit.

A/N The line about 'thrilling heroics' is from Joss Whedon's Firefly, Jayne Cobb says, "Time for some thrilling heroics". The show came out in 2002 so it's reasonable to assume that Anya would have been familiar with it. Even if technically seven years have passed since it's air date and the events of the nomads (given that Anya did some time travel from Jan 2009 to Jan 2005); here we are 22 years post Firefly and I still can quote lines from the show 😊

"Goodbye sweet, blood. I knew you well." Is a play on words from MacBeth Act 5, Scene 1 "Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him" I can just picture Jasper sighing longingly as the traces of Anya's sweet blood are left on the side of the road but how he's also proud of himself for not ripping Anya's throat out – he ain't no struggling vampire.