I was in the middle of my afternoon workout when I heard the knock. Not a hurried rap or Natalia's impatient drumming, but three solid, measured thumps. I set down the dumbbells and wiped sweat from my forehead. The intrusion was unexpected—I'd carefully scheduled my routines around everyone else's habits in that house. Kimiko should have been at her book club, Natalia at special training with her Cryo-Lich Ring, and Luka...
Luka should have been at work.
"Come in," I called, grabbing a towel as the door swung open.
It was him. But something was wrong.
Luka filled the doorframe as always, a mountain dressed in casual clothes instead of his usual Hunter gear. But the mountain looked... smaller somehow. His shoulders hung an inch lower than usual. The permanent crinkles around his eyes—the mark of a man who'd spent a lifetime smiling—were smooth with tension. Most telling of all, he didn't immediately boom out some embarrassingly enthusiastic greeting.
