She winced as pain lanced her side and reminded her of how nasty a wound she'd taken. "Shouldn't I be at a hospital or something? Why am I here? And where is here?"
"Vegas, and this place is protected to keep you safe. Hospitals aren't."
Her head hurt so badly she could barely follow his rapid-fire weirdness, which left her feeling like she was in the middle of a puzzle with missing pieces.
How had she gotten to Vegas from Alabama?
No, she couldn't be here. Rain was being stupid or playing a prank of some kind.
"I'm not in Nevada, Rain. I can't be."
"'Fraid so, hon."
No, no, no. Her head reeled over what he was telling her. It just couldn't be. It wasn't possible. She couldn't get halfway across the country without knowing it.
Could she?
All of a sudden, thunder clapped so loud, it jarred the entire house.
Squeaking in alarm, she shot to her feet, then winced at the pain in her side. "What in the world was that?"
"Bad thunderstorms and flash floods are moving in."
A weird sensation went through her at Rain's words. It was the kind of chill her grandmother would say came from someone walking on her grave.
She caught the look on Ren's face. "You felt it too, didn't you?"
But he didn't respond. Rather, he turned and left the room.
Rain shrugged at her. "He doesn't talk much. I haven't really gotten much more than a single word out of him. Talon said having a conversation with him is like pulling teeth. And here I thought Storm didn't talk much. I think I've found the only person alive who speaks less than my bro. Who knew, right?"
Was it because of the stutter...?
No. That was a dream. Not reality. Just because she saw it in her head, it didn't mean Ren had a stutter.
It didn't.
Or could it?
Curiosity settled on her back and rode her with spurs. "I'll be back in a sec." She headed after Ren, wanting some answers.
"Bathroom's the first door on the left," Rain called after her.
She barely registered that as she headed down the small hallway, looking for Ren.
She found him in a bedroom that had been converted to a gym in the back of his small, ranch-styled house. Probably no more than 1,800 square feet, the house was sparsely furnished and had few decorations. Some old pottery, rugs, but nothing on the walls except for a TV in the living room where she'd awakened and a smaller one here in the gym.
Strange.
Sitting on a weight bench, Ren was texting someone. He glanced up at her approach and cocked a puzzled brow.
The beauty of his face captivated her. If not for that overwhelming masculinity, he'd be considered pretty. And even though he was sitting down, he commanded attention. Respect.
Fear.
A lot of fear.
"I-uh ... I wanted to talk to you." Although now that she was alone in a room with him, that didn't seem like such a good idea after all.
Rising to his feet, he turned his phone over and slid it into his pocket, but didn't say a word.
Kateri swallowed hard. Why did you have to get up? He was absolutely huge in comparison to her. The power of his presence made her want to step back, but she refused to be intimidated by anyone. Even someone who could probably palm a basketball without fully extending his hand.
Gah, he was massive.
She cleared her throat. "I'm just trying to understand everything, okay? You were the one who rescued me, right?"
He nodded.
"Where was I? I mean, where did they take me from my office? How did I get there and how did you get me here? Did we fly or something?" Surely they wouldn't have allowed a man on an airplane with an unconscious woman and no ID? But nothing else made sense. "We couldn't have driven this far? Right?"
Ren debated what to tell her. On the one hand, she needed to know if she was to fulfill her duties, but on the other ...
Without the Guardian's return, her part of the ritual wouldn't really matter. The Ixkib's duties were to reset the calendar. The First Guardian was the only one who could choose new Guardians and reseal the gates.
If he wasn't here ...
"Are you not going to speak to me?" she asked.
Ren hesitated. He wanted to, but he didn't trust himself not to do something embarrassing ... like stutter. God, how he hated that affliction. While it very rarely occurred now, it had been horrendous in his youth. So much so that he'd been relentlessly ridiculed-which had only aggravated the severity of it.
Finally, he'd stopped speaking at all.