I closed my eyes, struggling to focus. Cage had a much more violent past than I did. He’d killed to survive, to protect his sister. He lied and gave orders with an easy grace I would never possess and wasn’t sure I wanted. But I’d asked him for honesty, and he’d given it. “You started this lie for me,” I told him at last. “And I know I went along with it. I’m not even sure it was wrong. But I can’t live it forever. I’m sorry if that feels like a betrayal.”

“It’s not a betrayal, I just . . .” He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “Look, let’s discuss this later, all right? You can’t tell them now, and Alexei gave us a time limit. I don’t want him charging in here like some kind of bear protecting its cubs.” He forced a grin. “My ego couldn’t take the hit.”

It wasn’t much of a joke, but I let myself smile in return. “Okay. Let’s protect your fragile male pride. So how do we go about finding . . . who is Géxià?”

He shouldered away from the wall with obvious relief. “She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s also the top buyer and seller on Obsidian, and the official Lóng clan representative. Or she was. She’s . . .” He shook his head. “You’ll see. Let’s go.”

I didn’t resist when Cage threaded his fingers through mine, and we started through another torn-out door. The contact tingled. It wasn’t the first time we’d touched since Sanctuary. He’d picked me up, shoved me out of harm’s way, guided me in one direction or another. I’d tapped his shoulder to get his attention, examined a wound on his wrist. But this sort of prolonged contact was different, somehow, even if we were only holding hands to avoid getting separated. We dodged people with every step. Alexei’s family might run Obsidian, but clearly other groups and organizations held sway here too. I didn’t recognize all of the symbols and colors, but there were street gangs everywhere, marked by tattoos and clothing, and lots of random criminals besides: mercenaries and pickpockets, shifty-eyed, hands spidering through the crowd.

I peered down the stairwell as we progressed. Obsidian seemed bigger than Sanctuary, with far more prison levels. Some of them were open, some still closed. I heard shouting and cheering from below, suggesting that other things might be going on in Obsidian’s depths.

Or maybe it was just the sounds of people at life. Who knew? My own life was so reclusive and sheltered, lived mainly through the pages of manga and the dreams of following in my parents’ footsteps. Now, with my family in tatters, what did I know about anything?

I heard the market before I saw it: a cacophony of chaos, people shouting and bellowing. A crowd lined the walls, and Cage kept a firm grasp on my hand as he pulled me in. Fingers danced over my pocket, but I ignored them. I had not one thing worth stealing besides my comm device, and Cage pressed that tightly between our wrists.