|[ DEATH'S APPRENTICE ]|

[Chapter Fifteen]

We had left a little after dawn, when the sun had persevered through the cloud cover to light up to desolated sixth district. There had been few words shared, and now as we crept along the burnt streets an awkward silence hung around us. Disappointment and rejection swirled inside me as I stared at the back of Malik's head, thinking about how close we had been only hours ago. Never before had I struggled with these emotions, at least not on the topic of men. I had been brought up in an environment which discouraged any hope or belief that men could be kind, or gentle. I had believed that all that mattered was how much we cost them, and whether it was worth the money.

But Malik was different. He wasn't perfect by any means, and half the time I wanted to beat the absolute shit out of him. But he had been kind, or at least tried to be. And never once had he viewed me as nothing but an object. He saw me as myself. As Cora. And had accepted me nonetheless.

I waited for my cheeks to flush as my thoughts wondered back to my dreams, where he had held me much closer than any friend, and was thankful once more that I would never blush again.

"We're almost there." Malik's words startled me away from my thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder and I quickly averted my eyes.

"How do you know?" I asked, scanning the area.

"Take a good, hard look. I'm sure you'll see it." Malik grinned, stepping over to what must have once been a shop.

"How inconspicuous." I stated, staring up at the dishevelled walls of the once imposing building. It had obviously been cared for much more than the surrounding buildings, with holes patched with wooden boards, and even the shop sign had a relatively new coat of paint. I cursed myself for not having noticed it earlier, and quickly blames my muddled thoughts and emotions.

"Well, this is their district." Malik shrugged, peering through one of the blackened front windows. "It's not as if they would feel the need to hide. Plus, it's a suitable place for a lot of people."

"But what if the Patrol came past? They would know where they are instantly."

"The Forsaken Syndicate have a deal with Haleck, and the Patrol." Malik moved to the door. "They pay a fee... kind of like rent, I guess, and the Patrol leave them be." He tested the door knob, shoving his shoulder against the door. "Hmm... locked."

I moved over to him, brushing dust and soot off the doors glass. The word pull leered out at me from the darkness, and I felt my lips twitch up in a smirk.

"It's not locked," I said, turning to grin at Malik, "The door says pull not..." I didn't get to finish my sentence before Malik launched back at the door, kicking it down with a crash.

"You're right," he said, patting me on the shoulder as he brushed past, "It's not locked."

"Subtle." I commented, amused despite myself, and I followed him into the dark building.

Inside it was so dusty I struggled to believe that the place was regularly used. Furniture had been stacked up by the walls, and papers and rubbish littered the floor, left by past scavengers. But other than the wooden boards that filled the cracks and holes in the walls there were no signs of occupation.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" I asked, feeling my stomach flip as we delved further into the old shop. It was a much bigger building than I had anticipated, and as we crawled through a half-caved in doorway we found ourselves staring at a set of stairs, spiralling down into pitch blackness.

"Pretty sure." Malik winked at me, before he moved to the stairs and began to jog down them, swallowed whole by the shadows.

"Malik!" I hissed, hurrying after him but halting when I could no longer see, "Malik where are you?" I struggled down the steps after him, my feet slipping on worn stone, my hands skimming the wall beside me. Behind me I could see the dim light of the shop, fading away the further I moved, and yet still there was no light before me.