Free Blackout (Darkness Trilogy) by Madeleine Henry

it!” I roar blindly.
    Their cameras keep flashing, and there’s more shouting now . My heart races, pumping bitterness to every corner of my body. The Easies have taken almost everything from me, and now they won’t shut up. I might be here for love, but I can still hate them. Without thinking, I reach for Magic’s barrel sticking out of my bag—right as a mammoth hand clamps down on my shoulder.
    “Phoeni x!” the Suit barks. “This way.”
    He spins me back toward The New York before I have a chance to say no. Fine, I think. Fine. I walk behind him rubbing the Easy out of my eyes and trying to find some sense in any of this. I’ve never heard anyone I don’t know say my name. I’m confused. DZs are used to solitude and darkness, not scrutiny and the glare of lights. I want to know what these Easies are planning to do to me, and I want Star, but I can’t let my desires make me weak. I’m here to fight, not to nurse my every pain.
    A man outfitted in red opens an unbroken glass door for me. He looks too happy. I scowl at his smile and stumble inside a hotel lobby. Around me now, every surface gleams a different shade of yellow. Too bright. A grand desk manned by two smug Easies sits in the center. The rest of the lobby crawls with DZs—DZs! My heart lifts into my throat as I take in every last one. They’re easy to spot: dirty, unshaven, and anxious. Like me. And like Star. And we’re all looking over our shoulders, because not one of us knows what’s going on.
    The Suit shoves me toward Elevator VII, where three DZs are already waiting. Two eye me up and down, but the third doesn’t even look. She wears tight leather pants and a dark jacket cut above her belly button. Shoulder pads. Black charcoal runs from her eyes to her temple, and it hits me suddenly. She must be a Shadow.
    A Shadow.
    I stiffen with fear. The doors to our elevator part, and she dashes inside before the rest of us even take a step. She situates herself in the back left corner, arms crossed. After a shocked pause, I go for the back right corner. Following a Shadow ’s example can’t hurt. I stare at her out of the corner of my eye, fascinated, and see thick bronze-colored hair shine down her back. She is tall for a girl with thin legs that look hard with muscle. Her features are small—straight nose, tiny mouth—and her brown, almost black eyes focus vigilantly. I turn away before she catches me staring.
    A nervous, skinny boy shuffles onto the elevator after me, followed by a short girl with big eyes. They waver in the center, looking weak and frightened. Skinny is about my age, but each of his arms is the width of my wrist. His ragged long-sleeve shirt is torn twice over his puny bicep, and I cringe for him. If the Carnival gets rough, he won’t stand a chance. Big Eyes looks plumper, but much more afraid. Her bottom lip quivers, and she wrings her hands together nervously. The last one on is the Suit. Other men like him—other Suits—wander around the lobby ushering us into elevators. This Easy pushes his hulking frame inside right before the doors close. He presses button 33 and makes his way to the back. Big Eyes steps aside to let him through, only to push the button 21 with her elbow. He glares at her.
    “Sorry,” she mumbles.
    I’ve never been more alert in my life. The atmosphere is thick with tension. No one moves except for the Shadow, who taps one of her fur-trimmed boots impatiently—when suddenly all of our phones buzz twice. Everyone but the Shadow jumps. She pulls her phone out of the tight space between her chest and jacket a second ahead of us. I yank my phone out clumsily from my pants pocket and check the screen: New Voicemail . The Shadow already has her phone pressed against her ear. I thumb to the voicemail and listen.
    “Congratulations, Phoenix!” welcomes the same male voice from before. “You have been assigned three roommates. This week, the four of you will stay in The New York, an exquisite