Chapter Sixteen

Harold’s woke to his phone playing “Blood of Heroes” by Tyr.  His music preferences were eclectic and spanned everything from big band to heathen metal.  Sitting up he stretched and walked out to the balcony.  The sun was shining over the mountains.  It had rained during the night and all that the sun shone on had a glistening wet shine to it.  It was beautiful.  Walking back into the room Harold walked to the bathroom and stepped into the shower and moved the water to cold.  Getting in he just stood in the cold water as it washed over him.  He thought of Josephine and what she might wear today.  He hoped it was something baggy and unattractive.  Being around a female draug for so long was starting to get to him.  He turned the water to hot, lathered up, rinsed and then picked up the shampoo.  He dumped the whole container on his head and spent a while lathering it into his hair and beard.  After washing out the shampoo he picked up the conditioner and looked at it.  He wondered if being around Josephine was making him want to…look pretty? Other ulfhedinn conditioned their hair, had close cropped beards, some even had braids.  Harold had always just shampooed, attempted a brushing and left it at that. So long as it didn’t get as bad as it did on that mission to Africa in the 1960’s.  His hair had almost become dreadlocks.  He put the conditioner down and turned the water back to cold and stood in it for a few more minutes before turning it off.  

He pulled out some clean clothes, dressed, strapped on his gun and put his coat on.  Looking at himself in the mirror he spoke quietly to his reflection, “You are on a mission.  She is a source of information regarding that mission and draugar in general. Focus on that.”  Satisfied with his self-pep talk he left the room.   

Breakfast was excellent.  Harold had reviewed a few other places to stay on the peninsula and didn’t see anything that seemed comparable to the lodge until they reached Port Townsend.  Harold was perfectly happy to eat at diners, but he did like the occasional good meal in a nice setting.  As he ate Harold pulled out his smart phone and did some research on places to investigate.  There wasn’t much.  Tomorrow’s breakfast would be the last at the Quinault Lodge and then the search would have to go north.   

He paid in cash and left a good tip.  The waitress had been very nice and even a little flirtatious.  

At Josephine’s room he rapped on the door three times.  Just as he finished the third hit on the door it flew open.    

“Come in.  Ready for a new day?”

Josephine was still wearing the black, skin tight outfit from last night.  Harold grimaced as she walked back into the room.  New smells greeted him and his nose wrinkled, he smelled a very faint whiff of patchouli oil and…new clothes?

“You don’t have body odour, but is that what you’re wearing today?  It seems rather, noticeable?”  He asked as he walked out to the balcony and opened the doors.  He decided it would be best to stand out there and look at the lake.  

“The shirt is an athletic shirt. Supposed to wick moisture away from your body.  Not something I have to worry about.  The tights are yoga pants.” She looked at Harold standing on the balcony with his back to her.  She smiled.   

“But you’re right.  I’m going to change.”

Harold heard her pulling clothes out of the dresser and then go into the bathroom.  A couple of minutes later she came out, “Here, what do you think of my frumpy look?” Harold turned around and had to smile.  She was wearing Birkenstocks over rag wool socks, a pleated and heavily patterned skirt that went down to the socks and a sweater that looked two size too large for her.   

“Where did you get all that?” Harold suspected she’d gone to Aberdeen again and raided a few places.  

“I couldn’t…sleep last night so I ran to Aberdeen and broke into a few places.  Don’t worry, any video captured of me will show a female in black wearing what appears to be a pillow case across her face and head breaking into places with a crowbar.”   

Harold couldn’t help himself and laughed out loud.  He could just imagine the police playing that video over and over again.   

“Well, let’s try the outfit out downstairs shall we?”   

“OK, but I go first and you walk behind me.  I want you to watch the people in the lobby and see if this outfit makes any difference.”  Josephine spoke with seriousness.  Harold nodded and indicated the door with his hand.

“Let the science experiment begin.” He said.  

Walking into the lobby about ten feet behind her Harold watched and smelled the people there.  There were two middle aged women at the counter, an older couple in their 70’s, a family with three young girls and a boy about 14, and another couple with no children.  Not as many as the day before and the smarmy bellhop wasn’t there.   Harold had hoped he would be.  He would have been a good barometer of Josephine’s new style.  

Getting into the car Josephine eagerly asked, “Well?”

“Normally people look at you regardless of what they are doing.  The smell you emit does that.  Once looking they either don’t stop staring or have to make an effort to pull their attention away.  This morning the old man, women and girls looked away easily, the teenager looked back at you once and then back to his smartphone.  The two men looked at you, turned away and then tried hard to look at you again without their wives noticing.  I’d say your “camouflage” was quiet effective.”  Harold made a mental note to include this experiment in his nightly report.  

“Yes!  It worked!  Sweat pants!  I need sweat pants.  Maybe some glasses.  Not fashionable glasses.  Some that look like they were fashionable a decade ago.”  Harold laughed again, “Perhaps you can find some theatre make up and add some acne?”  He laughed some more at the thought.  Josephine wasn’t laughing.   

“Don’t laugh.  If I can do that I just might. It would be nice to walk into a place and not be fawned over.”   

Harold laughed a little more.  “You do realize of course that across the world, earðkin women spend literally billions of dollars each year trying to attain the level of attractiveness you are working to get away from?  I know this is serious for you but surely you can see how it’s amusing in an ironic way?”  As they got into the car Harold realized he was still looking at her as if she was wearing the black tights.  Josephine didn’t seem to notice.

At Harold’s comment it was Josephine’s turn to laugh. “It is ridiculous isn’t it?”  Still looking at Harold, she went into her thinking state.  Although it was very un-nerving to have her sitting next to him motionless and staring, Harold left her be.  The rain started again and it looked like the skies were grey all the way to the ocean.  

They were a few miles south along Highway 101 before Josephine suddenly drew in a breath and asked, “Where are we going?”

“A seafood processing plant in Taholah.  We’re going to see if they have tours there.  The other night we may have missed some people that live out of town.  I’m hoping they come into town to work at the processing plant or other businesses.”

“And after that?  Hunt through the woods again tonight?”  Josephine seemed eager.   

“Definitely.  We’ll not bother hunting, just cover as much ground as we can hoping to find a scent.”  

“Good. I’ve got my night outfit on underneath all this.” She said straightening her skirt.  “You know, I had a few skirts like this in the late ‘60’s.  It’s funny how some fashions hang around or come back after a decade or so.  Some seem to be gone forever though.  I miss men and women dressing more formally.  I’m betting you’re not broken hearted about today’s more relaxed styles?”  Harold smiled thinking about the fashions he’d avoided all his life.   

“No, not even a hint of sorrow leaving the suit and tie behind.  I’ve always been what you’d call a ‘casual’ dresser.  I have some formal outfits for those sorts of occasions of course.  But what I’m wearing now, you’d have found me wearing something very similar since the 1950’s.  But that’s just me.  Ulfhednar tend to be varied in our attention to fashion.”  Harold thought of his old friend Osmund.  “You vampires seem to be all about fashion.”   

Josephine took off one of her sandals and adjusted the strap, “We’re taught that we’re better than humans, werewolves and should dress like it.  It also makes the enthrallment of humans all the easier.  What no one mentions is that it’s just another way to avoid boredom.  Some become a little extreme with it.” She turned to look at Harold, “I’m guessing your opinion of our fascination with haute couture is a low one?”   

“You could say that.  And vampires think all ulfhednar are slobs?” Harold looked sideways at Harold.  Josephine snickered, “Something like that.”  

The rain had stopped so Harold rolled down his window.  Josephine did the same.  They rode the rest of the drive to Taholah in silence.

The seafood processing plant wasn’t much.  No one had asked for tour before but that didn’t seem to be a problem.  Even with Josephine in her camouflage, as Harold insisted on calling it, the manager and staff were almost falling over themselves to show them around.  There were only a few people working and it wouldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes to see everything, but Josephine started up a conversation with the manager about local legends.   

There were many.  Ogre women that captured children and ate them, ravens that tricked people, giants that crushed everyone in a valley of peace and one about wolves that were changed into people.  Josephine looked at Harold when the manager was telling that story and gave him a hopeful look.   

“Which tribe were changed from wolves to human?” Harold asked the manager.   

“That’d be the Quileute’s north of the Hoh. You planning on heading up there? Good fishing from La Push.  I can recommend a friend of mine with a charter boat if you’re interested.” He grinned at Josephine, “I’ve got a boat of my own and could take you out on a private fishing trip if you like.” Harold liked the idea and was about to take him up on the offer when Josephine replied, “No, that’s OK.  I’m not one for boating really.”  Harold was surprised.  He expected her to take the manager up on the offer.  Part of her growing exploration of the world outside the guild.   

“Harold, we should be going.  We still have a few things to take care of today.” Josephine had an expression Harold hadn’t seen from her before.  Like a person trying to look pleasant when faced with something disgusting.  After being thanked by the manager and what seemed like every employee three times each, they were finally able to get out of the processing plant.  Walking out to the Escalade Josephine was breathing deeply through her nose.   

“You alright?” He asked.  

“Oh God.  The smell.  It just got worse and worse.  I’ve smelled fish before, cooked and raw.  But never so much.  I felt nauseous.  That’s not really possible for me, but that’s what it felt like.” Looking at Harold she asked, “It didn’t bother you?”  Before he could answer her she added, “No.  Of course it didn’t.  You’d be happy to grab a couple of those salmon and just gobble them up raw.” Harold shrugged a little, “I’d prefer them cooked.”  Opening the car door for her he asked.  “Have you always hated the smell of raw fish? Or is this just some peculiarity of vampires?”   

Josephine got in and buckled herself in.  When Harold got in she answered him, “I think it’s just me.  I’ve never heard of anyone complaining about it.  The boating trip though would be turned down by any vampire.  Can’t swim.”  This last comment confirmed something ulfhednar had always suspected.  What ulfhednar had been able to determine of draug anatomy through autopsies indicated they’d sink.  They wouldn’t drown of course, but the small, residual stomach and lungs didn’t have enough volume capacity to keep a draug afloat.  Harold wanted to keep the conversation going and see if he could find out more.  

“So, tanning by the pool, just not going in it?” He asked.  

Josephine laughed.  “I’m sorry.  I just had a mental image of you hanging out by a pool.” Harold looked at her with an expression of false annoyance.  “I don’t see how that’s funny.”  

“Oh, don’t be so pompous.  With your beard, long hair and let’s face it, nearly a pelt for body hair, you’d be a sight in a speedo.”   

“Not if there’s a load of ulfhednar with me.  I’d just blend in.” As soon as he said it Harold realized he’d opened a topic of conversation for Josephine to pursue.  Now he’d have to figure out a way of getting the conversation back to draugar.   

“A poolside party of hairy werewolves?  Just the thought boggles the mind.  Is this something you do frequently in the summer time?  Sitting and sipping fruity cocktails with little umbrellas and playing pool volleyball?”  Josephine laughed again.  She was enjoying the slight look of discomfort on Harold’s face.  

“And I suppose when draugar have poolside parties they do the same but just wade about in the shallow end?” Harold drove across the bridge going north across the Quinault River.  There was a Bureau of India Affairs road he’d seen on the map and wanted to park there while they explored the area more.   

“No.  We just pose around the pool admiring ourselves and teasing humans.”  Josephine seemed suddenly distant.  Harold decided to change the conversation topic.   

“Something that seems odd to me.  And please correct me if my understanding is incorrect, but it seems like vampires are a dichotomy.  On one side you are strongly motivated and defined by your religion, on the other motivated and by defined by your egos and conceit.”  Josephine laughed again but this time it was a derisive laugh.  The rain had stopped again and she rolled the windows down.   

“You see a conflict between the two when they are the same thing.  Our conceit and ego is because we are supposed to be the chosen of God.  We are the ultimate plan for this world and only await a sign from God to implement it.  Being devout, being superior, it’s all part of the same thing.”   She looked out the passenger window and breathed in the smells of the wet forest.  Turning back to Harold she said, “We’re going to talk about something else now.”  

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”   

“That’s OK.  You’re naturally curious, and vampire ego aside, I am interesting.”  Harold looked at Josephine to see if she was serious or not.  She just smiled at him.  Shaking his head he asked, “What would you like to talk about?”  Harold still hoped to bring the conversation around to draugar again.  Josephine’s question would indicate a subject she was interested in.   

“Families.  You mentioned a brother. Werewolves have families?  Like humans do?”  

Harold thought it was an odd question, but it was also a question that could lead him into the draug version of families.  If they had such a thing.  

“Of course we have families.  Brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, uncle, aunt, nephews, nieces, grand-parents, great-grand-parents, great-great-grand-parents.  Family through marriage, adoption.  Blood brothers and sisters, foster brothers and sisters.  Our gods have them too.  We’re very much a family focused people.”  Just talking about families made Harold smile, but Josephine seemed sad as he said all this.  Harold tried to switch the subject back to her and give her the chance to talk about something he assumed would make her happy too.   

“I’m guessing you vampires have something similar.  Not through…blood relations,” Harold realized saying that sounded odd and rushed into the rest of his question, “but through marriage, adoption, that sort of thing?”  

Instead of the happy reaction Harold expected Josephine seemed despondent and simply said in a quiet voice, “No, not really.”  Harold pursed his lips.   

“Sorry.  Did it again.  Made you feel uncomfortable.”  Harold wished he had the glib tongue of Osmund.  All he had done so far was shut her down.  Perhaps trying to be subtle about his questions wasn’t the way to approach Josephine.  She’d acknowledged his curiosity.  Perhaps he’d do better just being honestly curious.   

“Josephine, I honestly don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I am really curious.  I know vampires are organized in guilds, don’t you also organize yourselves within them in some sort of family unit?  A group that considers themselves brothers and sisters, with an older vampire as a father or mother figure?”   

Josephine gave him an ‘oh-what-the-hell’ look and said, “Sort of.  It’s more like a mentor to mentee relationship.  The hierarchy in a guild is very top down with a distinct pecking order.  Your mentor teaches you who pecks who, who owes favours to who, how to manipulate someone into owing you a favour.”  She sat quietly for a little while then added, “There is a sort of sibling rivalry between us.  Things like, who is wearing the latest fashions, who can attract the handsomest or most beautiful…victim.  That sort of thing.  And we have our ceremonies and holy gatherings of course.  We’re preached to over and over again how we are all the chosen of God, Lilith and Cain.  One great family destined to inherit the world.”  Josephine turned to look out the passenger window.  

Harold saw the BIA road on the right and turned down it.  “If you see a road off this one let me know.”  He said.  Harold thought for a while.   

“So there’s no family units?  Husbands, wives, perhaps two siblings converted? I’m sorry but for my people family is everything.  Your world seems so strange to me.”  

Josephine looked at Harold with a cocked eyebrow.  “We don’t convert family members.  And once converted we don’t marry.  Look, can we give it a rest?  I know I’m the most fascinating thing you’ve ever encountered but I’d really like to just enjoy the scenery.  OK?” Josephine said harshly.   

Harold didn’t say anything.  He’d already apologized to her and that was enough.  He spotted a dirt road on the left and turned down it.  It was fairly well traveled and he was able to drive a couple of miles before it dead ended.  As soon as he stopped the car Josephine was out and taking her frumpy clothes off.  Harold got out and walked around to her side of the car.   

“Hang on.  Smell the air.  Check those tracks on the road.  When was this road used last and by whom?”  Harold felt it would be best to be more businesslike for a while.   

Josephine looked at the dirt road and walked around smelling the air.  “I can’t tell anything from the road.  It’s rained too much to see any tracks.  There is the smell of deer blood.  It’s not fresh but I can’t tell how old it is.”  Harold waited as she walked over to his side of the car.   

“I think I smell pee, human pee.”  Harold nodded.   

“Anything else?”  He asked. Josephine shook her head. “No. What am I missing this time?” She seemed impatient with Harold.  

“A lot.  But it’s not due to your lack of experience.  Vampire sense of smell isn’t as good as ulfhednar and as you pointed out, it’s been raining.  There were three hunters, one female deer.  The hunter who peed on that tree there was in his mid-forties and may be pre-diabetic.  The SUV they drove has tires that need a little more air.”  

Josephine laughed.  “Are you going to change into your furry form and tell me which one was left handed, if the deer had eaten lichen or moss and what colour the SUV was?”  Harold laughed as well.  “Sorry.  I am good, but not that good.” They both laughed a little more than the joke needed.  Josephine looked at Harold with an apologetic face.   

“Harold, I’m sorry I got a little bitchy.  It’s just that my life since 1939 has been pretty much wasted and filled with bullshit.  I don’t like thinking about it.” Harold bowed his head slightly and then looked at Josephine.  

“Apology accepted and I am sorry for being so nosey.  As you said, I’m very curious and you are the most fascinating thing I have ever encountered.”  He smiled at Josephine and she smiled back a little sheepishly.   

“Flatterer.”  

Harold was about to ask her to go around to the other side of the SUV so he could undress when a question came to him.

“Where were you in 1939?  When you were converted?”

Josephine laughed.  “Ironically, in Coventry where you first saw me.”   

Harold took a step forward and he stared at Josephine.  “When?  What month, day!?!” He voice was urgent and a little scared sounding.  Harold’s change of mood startled Josephine and she backed away a step.  

“November 5th.  I was staying with my dad’s uncle.  He and his wife were taking me to a bonfire to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night.”  Harold staggered backwards.  Now Josephine was a little angry.  “What!?!” she shouted, “What the hell is it?!” Harold slumped down onto to his bum in the muddy dirt road and held his head.  He started muttering and sobbing,  

“Urðr, Verðandi, Skuld.  Urðr, Verðandi, Skuld.  Urðr, Verðandi, Skuld.”   

Josephine angrily grabbed Harold by the shoulders and pulled him up to his feet.  Harold’s face changed her anger to terror.  He was crying and his face was contorted by anguish.  Harold was a hunter and killer, and without meaning to, her mentor.  He shouldn’t be brought to tears by anything.  Letting go of his shoulders and calming herself, she spoke in her most lilting voice.  

“It’s OK Harold.  Whatever it is, it’s OK.” Harold spun away from her and suddenly started changing.  His clothes, pack, holster, shoes all ripped and shredded off him as he ran into the woods.  Josephine was too shocked to follow at first but then started after him.