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“How long can vampires withstand sunlight?”

“The time lengthens as the vampire lives longer.” I shuffled uncomfortably in the passenger seat of a sleek grey Mitsubishi Eclipse. We were stopped on a dirt road in a forest, most of the dim natural light blocked out by the thick canopy of leaves. Being in a car again made me very nervous, reminding me of Jacob’s crash. Ivan sat patiently behind the wheel of the parked car. “In this cloudy weather, my skin will not begin to seriously burn until about 40 minutes have passed. The pain will begin at 25 minutes. In direct sunlight, I burn a little before 15 minutes… Why do you ask?” The information could be used against me, I realized too late to restrain my answer.

In my peripheral vision, I saw his shoulders shrug. “I’m trying to take your mind off the driving. It’s obvious you’re nervous. Your foot taps- kinda slow, but very tensely. And you play with your knuckles.” I didn’t even know that. He unbuckled and stepped out of the car, and I followed in suit. He held the driver-side door open for me before walking around and getting in the other side. Now that I was actually in this position, my nerves shot up even higher. I didn’t want to learn to drive. There is no point, as I will never use the knowledge again anyways.

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured me. “First you turn the key and start the ignition.” I shakily did as he said, flinching when the car growled to life. “Great. The right pedal is the gas, the left is the brake. We’re in park right now, which means the car won’t move. So you clutch this lever right here-“ he took my hand and guided it to the instrument in what he previously referred to as the center console, directing my hands so that they pushed the button, “-and then you pull it until it hits the ‘D’. First hold down on brake all the way.” I did so. My healed hand burned beneath his, but I struggled to keep still. “Now we pull the lever back.” His steady hand over mine led the stick down as he said. “OK, let off the break.”

I turned to shoot him a terrified look, but eased up slightly. The car rolled forward at about a mile an hour, inching slowly down the road. “Great. Push on the gas as slow as you want, just to get the feel of it.”

After a few traumatizing minutes of varied speeds and practice, I grew slightly more comfortable, at least enough to actually drive. “I asked about the sunlight because there are a few tiny patches of light down the road a ways. Just wanted to know if you could get through it alright.” His voice soothed me a little as I gripped the wheel with the strength of an army. The car sped up incredibly slowly, but I was able to calm myself as I trusted the strange technology. “Focus on my voice.”

I tensed again as I forced myself not to look at him, only at the road. “Think about something else besides the driving itself. Do vampires have mates?”

What an unusual conversation starter. Is it another trick, another interrogation? “Vampires who are born do indeed have the possibility of having a mate. The process is only the extreme compatibility or similarity of certain genes. As far as I know, there is no predestined fate, as I have heard werewolves possess. However, vampires who are created, such as myself, have no such possibility unless it is with a born vampire who experiences the phenomenon I previously described.” Though I feared to admit it, as though I might become careless, speaking did help to subdue my nerves.

He hummed in understanding, although I sensed a frown on his face. “What does it feel like?” His voice sounded terse and tight.

How do I answer this… “Well, I do not know, since I have not felt such a thing.” Even when my gaze rested away from his face, I visibly saw him tense beside me. Is something wrong? Is he conversing with his pack? “I have heard that for vampires it is a slow process. If a vampire is genetically mated to a human, the human may feel the tug more powerfully than the vampire at first because his body is alive. A vampire’s system will take a little more time to develop the pull. The time depends on the vampire’s age.”

He relaxed again and the atmosphere altered drastically with it. I cringed slightly as we passed through a particularly sunny spot of the road. He sighed and chuckled a moment. What does he find funny about this situation? “The genetic thing is the same for werewolves,” he continued. Really? “Not everyone has a genetic mate, but you just know if you do. Even if you haven’t met them yet, you just get this feeling, around puberty, that tells you to wait for someone. So… you haven’t felt this mating thing yet?”

A smile tugged on my lips unknowingly. “Hm. Perhaps I have.”

“What?!” He yelled so loudly and it surprised me terribly, so that I jerked the car to a haphazard stop. I looked over at him in confusion, and he squinted back at me in rage. “What… When… Who is it? Who are you mating with?”

I was quite shocked. His breathing was short and labored, his brown eyes narrowed to slits. “This was before I had been turned. Her name was Christina. We had grown together, been best friends for years before I proposed to her, the night of her birthday.” Her blue eyes and black hair and freckled face and quiet personality and her scent of freshly-baked bread flooded my mind. “We married at 17. Her parents approved of me even though I had not yet made a name for myself because of our history as friends. She died in childbirth.”

40 years ago, I would have begun to cry at the mention of her name. Now, though a sheen of watery film passed over my eyes, I did not shed a tear. Instead they usually began to fall when I remembered our child. “We had a daughter. Her name was Leila. She was incredibly ill from her birth, as she had arrived three months early. My daughter did not experience many happy moments. She rarely smiled. She was often in pain. One night, two years later, I put her to bed in her crib, from which she did not wake again.”

It surprised me that I did not cry while speaking. A few sniffles escaped, but telling him the story actually seemed to comfort me. I released the brake and continued to drive, letting out a shaky breath. “Thank you for listening.”

He sat silent for a long time. I enjoyed it, but I could tell he felt bad about yelling- though I still had no idea why he did so in the first place. “I’m sorry I got upset,” he whispered. I thought his statement was rhetorical, so I did not interrupt the silence that followed. “You’re doing a great job of driving, especially for a first-timer. Very steady driving, quite the pro.”

“Thank you,” I whispered again. I’d only been going in a straight line. I was tired of driving, but unsure of how to stop properly. “Can I end my driving lesson for today?”

He nodded and helped me slow down on a shady part of the roadside to park. We switched places once again, and he still waited until I had safely seated myself. He glanced at me worriedly, but my genuine smile seemed to rid him of whatever doubts he had, as he smiled back with a light in his eyes. Almost like… relief? “Thank you for telling me all that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

I shook my head. “Actually, I’m fairly certain that this has been the easiest that I can remember."

He chuckled again, resting a hand on my thigh for a quick moment, jumbling my thoughts. “I’m glad to hear it.”