CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Peter stands in front of the private door. He folds the map, tucking it into his pants, and sighs, looking the door over. There has to be a way to open the door without being blown across the hall. He studies the handle. There’s no lock. No keyhole. Not even much of a handle. Just a ring set into a metal block. What kind of enchato have they set on this door? And why? Heating a hand to a bright white, he puts it up to the handle. Not but an inch away, the blue light knocks his hand back. He shakes his hand, flexing his fingers. Letting it get bright white again, he reaches out once more.
Just as he gets as close as he was before, a shuffling comes from behind the door, and a honeyed voice calls out. “Ari? Is that you?” The shuffling stops, and shadows appear in the c***k
