He looked so startled by this news that a small smile tugged at her mouth.
“It’s true,” she assured him.
“Not my mother,” he said with certainty. “She was in agony.”
“Si. I’m sure I was too,” she told him. “But the mind . . .” She shrugged. “It doesn’t hold onto the memory of it. Perhapsit is the nanos, or perhaps the brain just cannot process such sustained and powerful sensation and short-circuits. I do notknow, but I do not really remember the pain. Just the nightmares, and I have been told it is the same for all turns.”
G.G. shook his head stubbornly, refusing to believe.
“Have you ever asked her?” Ildaria queried.
G.G. frowned now, but reluctantly shook his head.
“Perhaps you should,” she suggested gently. “Because from what I can tell, that part of the turn is harder on those overseeingit than the person turning.”
The stubbornness on his face told her that he wasn’t prepared to entertain this idea yet, so she let it go. The suggestion was in his mind now and he would wonder about it, and hopefully, someday ask his mother. It might not convince him to turn. His repulsion was ingrained from a young age, subconsciously affecting his decisions just as her abuse as a child had worked under the surface all these years to make her avoid sexual situations.
“At any rate,” she said, dropping her gaze to the batter as she returned to the subject, “the hell for me was once the worstof the turn was over and I’d regained consciousness. The hunger was constant. I didn’t recognize it as hunger though. To meit was just pain. Sometimes it was just a mild discomfort, what I experienced as a mortal when I was hungry. But sometimesit felt like my stomach was eating itself. If I didn’t feed then, it would spread out and change, feeling as if my blood hadturned to acid and was boiling all my organs.
“Those first weeks I always woke up hungry, usually just with the mild discomfort type of hunger, but sometimes with the stomachgnawing kind. Fortunately, Señorita Ana was always there with a donor, waiting to help me feed. At least, for the first twoweeks. But the third week, she started coming later and wasn’t there waiting. I had to remain in my room and suffer untilshe came. I was never to leave my room without her. I was actually breaking the rules by going to visit my abuela.”
“What?” he asked with surprise. “Why weren’t you allowed to leave your room?”
“For the safety of the mortal staff,” she said simply, and deciding the batter was stirred enough, set the bowl on the counter, turned the oven to bake at 400 degrees and then retrieved the muffin pan and muffin cups.
“She didn’t think it was safe for you to be around mortals?” G.G. asked as he watched her drop the paper muffin cups intothe muffin pan one after another.
Ildaria shrugged. “I was a new turn. No new turn is safe for a mortal to be around.”
“Why?” he asked at once.
“We don’t always recognize the sign that we’re hungry as a need for blood,” she explained, moving on to dripping batter intothe paper cups. “We automatically reach for food, because the first hunger pangs are similar to the hunger for food and wehaven’t adjusted to our new needs and their signals. Even the sensation of the stomach eating itself is similar to that ofthe hunger for food when a mortal is really hungry. But the acid attacking your organs feeling isn’t. Unfortunately, by thetime you get to that point, you can be extremely dangerous.”
Frowning, she added, “But you’re dangerous before that too. Your stomach might just be a little uncomfortable, you think you’rehungry, and then a mortal moves close and smells lovely. You might think, what a pretty perfume. I just have to get a betterwhiff, and move closer. Maybe you hug them and press your nose to their throat and . . . your lizard brain takes over. Thenext thing you know you’re licking the vein pulsing there, or biting into it.”
“Your lizard brain?” G.G. asked with disbelief as she set the batter aside and popped the muffin tin in the oven.
Straightening, Ildaria turned toward him and shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what else to call it. You aren’t really thinkingclearly at that point. Some basic survival part of your brain takes over and goes after what you need. You don’t realize what’shappening and that you’re biting someone until the screaming starts.”
“Screaming?” he asked with alarm. “I thought you could control mortals and ensure they don’t feel pain when you feed.”
“We can. If we’re in control. But a new turn has to be taught that control, and that was why Señorita Ana was making me waitlonger before taking me to feed. She needed me to learn to control myself even when the hunger had reached the critical point.”
G.G. considered that briefly, and then nodded that he understood. But then he asked, “That last afternoon with your grandmother—abuela,”he corrected himself. “You weren’t hungry?”
“Si. I was, but not critically hungry yet so I was able to control myself. However, when I went to hug her goodbye it got iffy,” she conceded. “I found myself nuzzling her neck, and then realized what I was doing and ended the hug, told her I loved her and walked her out. Then I went in search of Señorita Ana. I was hoping she wouldn’t make me wait long to take me out to feed. Actually, I was surprised that she didn’t have someone keeping an eye on me. Or maybe she did,” she added thoughtfully. “There was security all over the place that day.”
“And yet they didn’t stop you from running,” he murmured thoughtfully.
Ildaria nodded slowly as she thought about that now too. “I didn’t see
