Chapter 36: Westward Ho!
JPOV
Monday, March 20th, 2006 – Tuesday March 21, 2006
Damn, I loved this woman. The moment we got word to head back to Forks, Anya couldn't get the suitcases in the car fast enough. Along with her expanded record collection and espresso machine. I even ensured the wax kit was in my luggage. We'd enjoyed our solitude up in the Catskills, hiding away from Eddie Boy's existential crisis for the last six months, but we both knew it was just a reprieve. It was always going to end like this. After all, it was a love story, and love stories always circle back to where they began. The idiot teens were bound to return to Forks after Edward's stupid plan to commit suicide by way of the Volturi failed.
So, we were headed off into the sunset where Edward would have to learn about Jacob: Bella's hot spicy wolf.
But not before we took advantage of the large shower in the bathroom one last time. There is something to be said for sex in the shower, it was one of the few times my body was warm and while Anya never complained about the difference in temperature other times we're together, she did tend to scream more and unleash herself in the shower.
Fuck it was hot.
She loved it when I would sit on the edge of the bench, and she would straddle me, my arms cradled around her back, the water hitting her back, almost scalding, but with my cool chest pressed against her the contrast drove her wild. She would bounce and writhe on top of me, until she'd lose her footing and then I would pick her up and back her into the glass door, her hand would grip the upper edge, and I would thrust in and out of her as fast as I dared, and she would just scream in pleasure as her orgasms coursed through her.
Sometimes we'd stay in there until the hot water tank drained and it would get too cold for her, I'd carry her out to our room and fuck if it was a sunny day, we'd never leave that bedroom, she'd want me up against the windows. I got over my fear of taking her from behind pressed against the window so she could marvel at my dazzling reflection in the window pretty quick, and damn if it wasn't some of the hottest sex we had.
Like I said, she distracted me with sex a lot in March. Twenty-six times by the time we left for our drive west in case you were wondering. And yes, several of those times were missionary and each time was better than the last. Anya could not get enough of feeling my scars pressed up against her skin. I never felt more loved by her than in those instances when I was lying above her, touching her in as many places as possible.
But back to the story...I couldn't deny how much I wanted to know what Anya knew. She had that twinkle in her eye, and her incessant singing of "Werewolves of London" was a dead giveaway that she found something particularly amusing. Knowing how much she disliked Eddie Boy, I had a feeling the rest of the family wouldn't find it so funny to learn that Bella was getting cozy with wolves.
Just how cozy was Bella getting with wolves? Was this the spice Anya alluded to a year ago? It was with Jacob and not with Eddie Boy? Should I feel bad for Eddie Boy? Was it wrong that I found the idea of his singer hooking up with a wolf rather satisfying, served Fucker right honestly. Maybe they did it as often as Anya and I? I mean, they are teenagers, and their hormones are more rampant than Anya's and me. It's totally feasible. Yeah, totally served Fucker right.
Alice had been the one to tell me that Jacob was a wolf. Anya never outright said it—she just sang those damn songs. But still, a human, a vampire, and a wolf? What a love triangle. Driving west with Anya sleeping beside me, still smiling even in her sleep, I couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of it all. My creator had written these books for tweens.
It was strange when you really thought about it, that my 30-year-old mate, who would be 27 in May, in this world, was reading a series aimed at 12- to 16-year-old girls. And Edward, the brooding, melodramatic vampire, was the heartthrob? It boggled the mind.
But from the beginning, Anya had always been Team Jasper. Even if my creator gave me, as she liked to say, the "shitty end of the stick." I knew what she meant. Bella's birthday party, the forced exile… I was painted as the poor, struggling vampire who couldn't control himself. But I couldn't wait to set Fucker straight on that point when I saw him next. To really lay into him.
Because here's the thing: I was perfectly fine. Yes, Bella had a paper cut, and yes, I smelled it. But it was Fucker who nearly lost it, who couldn't keep his bloodlust in check. When he shoved Bella into that glass table, that's when it all went to hell. Suddenly, it was like the world turned into a buffet for the rest of us, and I felt every bit of it. Do you have any idea what it's like to be slammed with the bloodlust of six other vampires? Even Carlisle had a ghost of a tickle in the back of his throat.
Yeah, I was looking forward to that. To finally being able to yell at Edward, to make him understand that his actions weren't just his own. They impacted all of us. He wasn't the only one suffering. And I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when I told him.
Maybe I'll hit him with all that bloodlust and see how he handles it. Definitely make sure Anya was far away, yeah maybe get Em to keep an eye on her as Edward feels what I felt that night. That'll teach the fucker.
Driving in the night, my mind wandered. Would Anya ever be comfortable enough to let me give her another hickey—a small one on her carotid, just to prove to Edward that I wasn't some monster ready to snack on my girlfriend – my mate. Knowing Anya, she'd probably laugh at the idea, fingers tracing up to where I'd given her one on New Year's Eve. She'd asked me to possess her as humans do in her world, knowing I couldn't bite her like vampires claim their mates in mine. But she never let me place another one there, well there was the fact I expanded it considerably New Year's Day after that awful argument we had, testing the mate bond to its ultimate limits.
We were somewhere in Colorado when Anya jolted awake, and I felt sheer terror rolling off her in waves. It hit me so hard I nearly careened into the other lane, jerking the wheel back, car horns piercing the early morning hours. What the hell had spooked her? For the last six months, she'd done everything she could to keep her knowledge of the plot to herself, playing the role of the passive reader (or rather as she dryly said Christmas Eve, respecting Eddie Boy's orders to forget about Bella), trying not to interfere. Oh Anya, what did you think you overlooked?
She caught me glancing at her, concern all over my face, and quickly tried to mask it. But instead of the usual boredom she'd project to calm me down, this time she shifted into something like forced calmness. Okay, this is new. Then, in a tone that was too patient, too controlled, she asked, "Tex, can we make a detour? I need to find a church."
A church. That was unexpected. I didn't question her, though. I could see her lips moving silently, mouthing what I could only guess were prayers. Anya wasn't overtly spiritual, but when she was truly stressed, when the weight of her knowledge became too much, she'd turn to hymns or, apparently, now a church.
"Any particular church?" I asked, taking the next exit off the freeway without hesitation.
She gave me a small, tight smile. "Well, my preference would be Anglican—Episcopalian for you American—but I'll make do with Catholic."
I nodded, not pushing for more. This was Anya's way of coping and whatever had her spooked, I was determined to help her through it. Even if it meant finding a church in the middle of Colorado.
Taking the exit, I caught a glimpse of Emmett and Rosalie's Jeep in the rearview mirror. They were following close behind, as usual, when I suddenly veered off course. I knew it wouldn't be long before Rosalie called to see what was going on. Sure enough, the phone buzzed a moment later.
I answered without hesitation, keeping my voice steady. "Hey, Rose."
"What's up, Jazz? Why'd you just take the exit? We're in the middle of nowhere," Rosalie's voice was sharp, always on edge when it came to unexpected changes. She never liked surprises.
"Anya wants to find a church," I replied, glancing over at Anya. She was still in the passenger seat, lips moving silently in prayer, her hands clasped together in a way that made it clear this wasn't just a whim.
"A church?" Rosalie echoed, disbelievingly. "Is everything okay?"
Well, Eddie Boy tried to commit suicide by Volturi, Bella might be banging a wolf and now Anya needs a church, so you tell me?!
"Yeah, everything's fine," I lied, not wanting to explain over the phone. Not that Rosalie would pry too much if she thought it was Anya's business, but I could feel the skepticism coming through the line.
There was a pause before Rosalie sighed. "Alright, we'll follow you. Just let us know if you need anything."
"Will do. Thanks, Rose," I said, hanging up as I took the off-ramp.
Anya still hadn't said a word, her eyes closed as she kept mouthing those prayers. I didn't need my abilities to know she was on edge, and I wasn't going to push her for answers. Not yet. Whatever was going on in her mind, it was serious enough that she felt the need to pray—something she rarely did. And I respected that. I also knew that Anya would always share the truth with me when she was ready, just like she had in the past. Although we did wait nearly nine months before admitting to one another we were mates. I pushed that thought aside.
Driving through the small town, I scanned the signs for any indication of a church. Rosalie and Emmett trailed behind, probably just as confused as I was, but willing to trust that there was a reason for this detour.
Luckily—or maybe it was providence, divine intervention, whatever you wanted to call it—the first church we found was indeed Episcopalian. The relief radiating from Anya when I pulled up to the curb in front of it was palpable. She didn't even wait for the car to come to a full stop before she was out the door and rushing up the steps.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice strained but sincere, before she disappeared inside.
I watched her go, still with no idea what was going on. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but I kept it in check. I'd find out soon enough, I hoped.
Emmett and Rosalie pulled in behind me, and before I knew it, they were in the back seat, smooshed together as we were bringing so much stuff back with us, moving a bit too quickly for humans. They both looked at me, curiosity and concern written all over their faces.
Emmett grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Anya looking for forgiveness for shacking up with a vamp for six months?"
Before I could respond, Rosalie smacked him on the arm, hissing, "Really, Emmett?"
She turned to me, her expression more serious. "So, what gives, Jazz? Why the sudden need for religion from the human?"
I took a deep, unnecessary breath, a habit I'd picked up from being around Anya for so long. My fingers traced the bite marks on my arm, a gesture I'd seen Anya do countless times. It was soothing, almost hypnotic.
"Alright, Rose," I began, choosing my words carefully. "Anya wouldn't suggest this unless she had a reason, so let's think about this rationally."
"Rationally?" Rosalie echoed, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't big on indulging the unknown, especially when it involved something she couldn't control.
But Emmett was catching on. "Oh, like as a reader?" he asked, leaning forward with sudden interest.
"Exactly," I nodded. "Anya's the reader. She knew what was supposed to happen, she's been following the plot. This isn't some random impulse."
Rosalie's eyes narrowed in thought. "The birthday party," she muttered starting us off.
Emmett chimed in, the realization dawning on him. "Followed by the family blaming the 'weak link'"—he pointed at me—"and then Edward demanding we move across the country."
"Where we had to keep hating you," Rosalie added, a note of distaste in her voice. "Which Anya disliked. A lot."
"Right," I agreed, feeling a knot in my chest loosen slightly. "And then Alice…" I paused, my mind flitting back to that night in December. Let it go Whitlock! I doubt that's what's got Anya all worried. I shoved those images aside and focused on Alice. Who had gone to Mississippi and then…"Alice had her vision about Bella and went to Forks."
"Yeah," Emmett continued, catching on, "and then they hopped across the pond to save our idiot brother from the Volturi."
Ahh fucking shit – The Volturi. That's what it was.
My chest tightened again, this time with fear. "Oh fuck, my sweet Anya," I whispered to myself, "she knows about Aro."
Aro—the one vampire who could read every single thought another vampire or human had ever had with just a touch. And there were two vampires who knew about Anya. A woman from another reality who not only knew about vampires but knew about the Volturi. And Bella? Well she thought Anya was dead, so?
The Volturi... who were not supposed to know about her. This wasn't in the book. The plot had veered off course again. Everything Anya had endured over the last six months—the pain, the stress, the isolation—could be undone if the most powerful vampires in our world discovered her existence.
The realization hit me so fast that before I could stop myself, I smashed my hand against the steering wheel in frustration. The impact reverberated through the car, but it did nothing to ease the panic surging through me.
Fucking Edward and his tantrums! Once again, he's got my MATE in the line of fire. When I get my hands on him!
"Jasper!" Rosalie snapped, her voice sharp and urgent. "What the hell?"
But I could barely register her words. The roar of my thoughts drowned out everything else. If Aro knew about Anya… if he even suspected… everything I'd done to protect her could come crashing down.
"Rosalie," I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "The Volturi… they know about Anya." I couldn't bring myself to say the rest. Couldn't admit that I might lose her again—this time because of the vampire royalty in my world.
Emmett, always the one to crack a joke even in the worst situations, couldn't resist chiming in. "So, Anya thought prayer would help her? She knows that's not how this works, right?"
Rosalie shot him a glare, but I could see the concern in her eyes, mirroring my own. She knew the gravity of the situation. We all did. But Emmett's words hung in the air, a bitter truth behind his sarcasm. Anya knew better than to think prayer alone could protect her from the Volturi.
Still, I couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it. Anya wasn't the type to rely on blind faith. She was too pragmatic for that. No, this visit to the church wasn't just about seeking comfort. It was about preparing herself, about finding strength for whatever came next.
"We need to think," I said, mostly to myself, but Rosalie and Emmett were both tuned in. "Figure out what Anya knows… and what we're going to do about it."
Before we could formulate our next steps, Anya was already coming down the church steps, looking noticeably lighter. I couldn't make sense of it—how are you so calm Anya, if you've just realized you're essentially a dead woman walking?
She slid back into the car, and with one glance at our faces, she simply said, "Ahh, you guys figured it out too, eh?"
"Anya!" I couldn't keep the panic out of my voice. "How can you be so calm about this? You know—you know you can't be calm about this."
She looked at me with pure love in her eyes, the kind that always managed to settle my nerves, even in the worst of times. She leaned over and kissed me, a gesture that was both reassuring and maddening in its simplicity. Then she said, "Well, before we get ahead of ourselves, we have to…" She hesitated, then spat out, "Talk to Edward."
"Talk to Edward?" I repeated, completely thrown off by where she was going with this.
"What the fuck for?" Rosalie demanded behind Anya.
But Anya held up a hand, her calmness almost eerie. "If anyone knows if we truly have an issue on our hands, it's Edward. He would know if Aro caught on about me."
Well shit, she's right. If Aro had sensed anything unusual, Eddie Boy would have been the first to pick up on it.
Still, the thought of relying on him—of all people—made my skin crawl. But we didn't have much of a choice. If there was even a chance that Aro knew about Anya, we needed to know what Edward had seen, what he had felt in Aro's presence.
And then, unexpectedly, I started to laugh. The whole situation, Anya's sudden need to go to church—it all made sense. She needed to talk to Edward. The very person she squarely blamed for me being painted as the villain by our creator. The one she despised most out of the entire cast of characters. Probably more than Aro if I had to guess. She had to gather strength, not for facing the Volturi, but for being civil to Fucker.
Emmett and Rosalie were still staring at me, confused by my sudden amusement, as I leaned over and gently kissed Anya's face. More than once, because I couldn't help myself. I loved this woman dearly, and the thought of her steeling herself to be nice to my idiot man-child of a brother was both endearing and hilarious.
I whispered to her, "Are you ready to do battle?"
She laughed, that beautiful sound that always lifted my spirits, and kissed me back. "Well, we might need to make another stop first. But yes, I've channeled my inner calmness to deal with the damn idiot."
Emmett finally caught on, chuckling as he leaned back in his seat. "This is gonna be good."
Rosalie just shook her head, though I could see the corner of her mouth twitching in a barely suppressed smile. "Good luck with that," she muttered.
Anya smiled, her hand still in mine. "We'll need it," she said.
But the real question, when do we get to talk about the spicy wolf?!