la belle dame sans merci | carlisle cullen

40

Minerva's alarm clock was an unwelcome bugle call for the woman who'd been laying awake most of the night. As if she turned to stone overnight, she didn't budge while the domesticated bugle call rang through her room. It was so easy to not move, to let life pass her by. She'd spent most of the fifties immobile. Of course, back then she could sleep. Tempting as it was, she eventually pushed herself up.

The LED clock read 9:45, she wasn't running late yet but much longer spent in bed and she certainly would be. Her joints cracked and snapped as she rose from the comfort of her blankets, letting them remain in a tornado of a mess as she wandered about her morning routine. Coffee, shower, clothes and out the door.

Her hair stiffened with the cold nearly as soon as she stepped out the door, breath coming out in annoyed huffs ahead of her. It was already feeling like it was going to be one of those days. February had to be one of her least favourite months. All the come down from the hubbub of the new year earned this period the title of 'the dead of winter.'

Somehow, the inside of her car was colder than it was outside. She never had the cognizance to come out and start it ahead of time and in spite of Carlisle telling her it didn't actually need to heat up, she let it anyway. Slipping her phone out of her pocket, she took the few minutes to cheek her messages.

Her brows knit together as she examined them— it wasn't that her phone was blowing up but having a missed call made it feel like it. Charlie never called and more peculiarly, he certainly didn't text. The message just read Call me when you can and did nothing to ease her confusion. In addition to that message, she had an unread text from Carlisle which was far less unusual. It was from this morning, several hours before she would rise from her bed. Did sleep find you?

She called Charlie's cell before responding to anything, going immediately to voicemail. "Uh, this is Charlie. Do the thing when you hear the beep." There was an extended moment of silence before the beep came.

"Hey, Charlie. I'm gonna try the station. If you're texting it must be an emergency." She said before hanging up. Luckily, when she'd programmed his number into his phone he'd been insistent about the police station's number going in as well. Saying something along the lines of "Charlie never picks up, Chief Swan does." Which at the time she thought was incredibly corny but she was excited to put it to the test.

"Forks Police Department." A voice answered after a moment of ringing.

"Hi, could you put me through to chief Swan?" There was no response before the phone began to ring again.

"Charlie Swan." Answered a deflated voice.

"Heya, chief." She said with a slight smile, "it's Minerva, just returning your call."

"Hey, yeah." He sighed deeply on the other line, "Cell's dead. Glad you called."

"What's up? I figure if you're texting someone must be dead." Minerva says with a slight laugh. It hangs in the air, an awkward moment of silence before she speaks, "Oh, shit."

"Yup." Charlie responds. She fishes around in her tote bag for her cigarettes as the car heaters finally start to kick in. "There was an animal attack down at the docks last night." She wracked her brain, knowing damn well she knew someone that worked at the docks but not being able to come up with a name.

"Who?" She asks, unease bubbling in her gut. The irrational, anxious part of her brain is screaming Carlisle's name. As if he'd have any business at the docks and had texted her from behind the grave this morning. It was the sort of kick in the teeth thing she couldn't help but dread. She was already concerned with his mortality, it'd be fitting for him to die tragically young.