The Profile Match Read online

  “They’re not allowed in the ceremony,” the woman said.

  Oh-kay.

  We handed over our stuff, which the second woman took into another room while the first woman gave us the scoop. “You’ve each been assigned to a celebrity Grand Master. That’s written on your name tag. There are signs inside to help you find your gathering. Wait there for your Grand Master to appear.”

  “Grand Master like from the movie?” Grace asked me as we stepped toward the archway.

  “Must be,” I said, eyes peeled for trouble.

  We walked past the curtained archway and into a vast, dark room. There was no furniture and the windows had been shuttered. There were candles everywhere, hundreds of them, some on wall sconces but most set out in lines that made paths across the empty floor. There were three celebrity groups—Brittany Holmes, Valeria Silver, and Dennis Wylde—each depicted by a sign bearing the actor’s face.

  This room reeked of incense and marijuana and looked like it had come straight out of one of the Jolt movies. If I had never been in the Mission League and had never made the connection between what I’d experienced in Moscow with Dmitri Berkovitch and his followers and the movies, and if I hadn’t witnessed my ex-best friend Kip try to conduct a séance, I would be beside myself with the thrills right now.

  Instead, my stomach was churning out a steady ache of warnings.

  “I’m in Brittany’s gathering,” Grace said, smiling like she clearly had no idea what she’d gotten herself into. “How about you?”

  I glanced at my name badge. “Valeria.”

  Grace’s smile vanished.

  “Calm down,” I said. “It’ll be fine.” Just as long as neither of us took any drugs or participated in any séances. I thought about warning Grace not to take anything, but Mr. S and Prière had done a thorough job of that this afternoon. She knew better. We both did.

  “I don’t like being separated from you,” Grace said.

  I didn’t like it either, but it looked like we were all going to stay in this main room. “I’m going to be right over there.” I pointed toward the Valeria sign. “If you need me, come get me.”

  “There you are.” Meg Farland swept up beside me and flashed her name badge in front of my face. “We’re in Valeria’s gathering. I want you to sit by me. There are a couple guys here who are mega-fans, and I think I’m going to need a bodyguard. Do you mind?”

  “Sure, I’ll sit by you,” I said.

  “Perfect!” She blew me a kiss and ran off toward Valeria’s sign.

  Grace was glaring at me. “She had them put you on the same team as her.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Spencer! You made it!” Brittany appeared beside me, along with a gust of spicy perfume, and grabbed my arm.

  “I guess you know Grace,” I said, gesturing to her.

  “Hey, girl,” Brittany said. “Thanks for getting Spencer here. You excited?”

  “Yeah,” Grace said. “It looks great.”

  “It’s going to be better than great. It’s going to be amazing.” She let go of my arm and grabbed Grace instead. “You’re coming with me. We’ll see you later, Spencer.”

  Brittany dragged Grace deeper into the house, leaving me standing alone and feeling way too tall and completely out of place. I made my way to Valeria’s side of the room. I counted seventeen people sitting cross-legged on the floor in two lines that faced each other—ten on one side, seven on the other. I was standing on one end of the makeshift aisle. The sign bearing Valeria’s face stood opposite me, along with an altar and a pillar that was holding what looked like a burning incense stick. White circles on the floor seemed to have marked the places we were supposed to sit, twenty spaces total. Those already seated were chatting up their neighbors. They all looked like high schoolers. I didn’t see Meg, so I sat in the center of the three empty circles, leaving a space on either side. On my right, I overheard two guys talking about an international Free Light Youth conference in Cambodia in May that Brittany was going to host.

  “There will be thousands of teens there from all over the words,” the guy closest to me said. “I’ve already registered and got my plane tickets.”

  I was about to ask the kid what went on at an international FLY conference when a girl sat down between us.

  “Hey, she said, grinning at me. “I’m Marci. Who are you?”

  “Spencer,” I said.

  “How long you been a FLY?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure. You?”

  “Three years. How can you not be sure?”

  “Because he’s special.” This from Meg, who had lowered herself to the floor on my left in the last space available at the end of the row.

  Two guys in the row across the aisle leaned their heads together and started whispering, neither of them taking their eyes off of Meg. I glared their way, but they weren’t looking at me.

  “Oh, my gosh.” Marci’s eyes flew wide as she looked past me. “You’re Meg Farland.”

  Meg smiled briefly at Marci, then turned her happy face my way, wrapping both hands around my arm. “This is going to be wild, Spencer. You sure you’re ready?”

  “I was born ready,” I said.

  Several gasps drew my attention to the front where Valeria Silver was standing next to her face sign. Brittany’s co-star was Grace Thomas-short. A Tinkerbell-like pixy with platinum hair, an adorable face, light brown skin, and dark brown eyes.

  “Who are you?” she asked. She seemed to be speaking to the air, her expression grave.

  All at once, everyone around me said, “We are the light.”

  “And what does the light bring?”

  “The light brings power.”

  A slow smile stretched across Valeria’s face, and she panned her gaze around the group. “Welcome to my place, FLYS,” she said. “You are a select few. Only the privileged get to be here. And I hope you know that you have the best Grand Master there is.”

  The group cheered. Someone across the circle wolf-whistled.

  Valeria chuckled, as if she was doing her best to withstand the fervor of our combined affection. “Listen, we have a newbie here today, and I think his passage would be so much more intense if we just let him experience it raw, without any explanation. How’s that sound?”

  Eager cheers from all around.

  “Spencer Garmond?” Valeria turned her smoky eyes on me.

  My pulse picked up as every eye in our gathering looked my way.

  “Yeah?” I said.

  She snapped her fingers and pointed at the floor in front of her feet.

  Oh, come on. Were these people for real? As I got up, I tried to quickly run through that scene in the movie, to remember what they’d asked the kid to do, but I couldn’t remember any of the words. I walked up to Valeria. I was almost a full two heads taller than she was. She raised her eyebrows and again pointed to the floor. That’s when I noticed another white circle there.

  Why not play along?

  I took a deep breath and lowered myself to my knees. This gave Valeria the chance to look down on me, and she seemed much more comfortable with this scenario.

  “Do you declare upon your honor, before these witnesses and me, your Grand Master, that you freely offer yourself as a candidate for the mysteries of the Daysman?”

  “I do,” I said. Tell me all the mysteries so I can go report them to my boss and get you people and your craziness shut down.

  “Have you chosen a name?”

  Name? Figs, no, I didn’t have a name. “Foggé Grief,” I said, which was Kip’s old Planet of Peril character and the same name I’d used as an alias in Moscow.

  “Behold our sanctuary, young Master Grief,” Valeria said. “It is good and pleasant for brethren to dwell together in unity, is it not?”

  “Yeah, it is,” I said, just as the other kids said, “It is freedom.”

  Oh, this was so creepy.

  “Freedom, yes.” Valeria reached toward the pillar and picked up the ince
nse, which I now saw was some kind of pipe. She took a long puff and exhaled, carried the pipe to the kid at the front of row one. That kid took a smoke and passed it down the line. I didn’t know what was in that pipe, but I was not smoking it.

  “In the beginning God created the heavens and earth,” Valeria said. “Darkness was upon the face of the deep. But God said ‘Let there be light.’ And there was light.”

  “Light is freedom,” the kids chanted.

  Valeria picked up a candle off the floor and held it above my head. “My brother, I present to you this candle as an emblem of but one source of light, a representation of all you have within you, and a distinguished badge of a Daysman. Guard it well.”

  “It is the light,” the kids all said.

  Valeria handed me the candle, and I set it on the floor in front of me.

  “The Daysman have four levels of consciousness,” Valeria said. “The first is called Sleep.” And she went through all four levels, exactly like in the movie, explaining each one. And every time she finished, the group parroted back their line.

  “Sleep is the light.”

  “Sleepwalking is the light.”

  “Seeing is the light.”

  “Understanding is the light.”

  By this time, the pipe had made its way down the first line and up the second. A girl in front returned it to Valeria, who handed it to me. “Will you partake of connection?”

  Well, this was embarrassing, but I couldn’t do it. “No,” I said.

  Whispers broke out behind me.

  Valeria’s stern expression faltered, and she looked downright perplexed. “No?”

  “My basketball team is in the playoffs,” I said. “And I’ve signed an offer to play college ball for Arizona State. I’m not going to risk all that.”

  “No one will know,” Valeria hissed at me.

  “I’ll know,” I said. “I’m a man of integrity. I don’t say I’ll do one thing, then do something else. I’d like to join the group, but if I’ve got to inhale to do it, then I guess I’m out.”

  “Just skip this part.” Meg’s voice. From behind me.

  Valeria shot a scowl over my head. My knees were starting to ache, but I was curious what she was going to do next.

  “Fine,” Valeria said. “It’s just for symbolism, anyway. So, this is the Dawning of a new day. From now and onward, you will know a freedom unlike any other.”

  “Freedom is light,” the kids chanted.

  “O Daysman, master of the light,” Valeria said, “we present to you a new follower. Come into this Sleeper’s life and unleash for him that which he seeks: the power within!”

  “The power is light!” the kids yelled.

  “Repeat my words,” Valeria said to me. “ ‘Sleeper of Light, I pledge my allegiance to you.’ ”

  Here we go again. “Yeah, I can’t do that, either,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m a Christian. I’m not pledging my allegiance to anyone but Jesus. And America.”

  Snickers behind me.

  Valeria’s face darkened. “Then why are you here?”

  “Grace and Meg invited me. Are Christians not welcome in your club?”

  “You have to say the pledge to become a member,” Valeria said.

  “No one asked me if I wanted to become a member,” I said. “Wait. Was it in the packet? I was going to read that, but that lady said I had to check my bag at the door.”

  Valeria ran a hand over her face. “This whole ceremony was for you. We had three new members today, and you were one of them.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know.”

  “Stay here,” Valeria said, then she stalked away.

  I watched her cross the room and approach a blond woman who was standing in the center of the room, between the three groups.

  Anya.

  Valeria started talking to her, and Anya looked my way.

  I didn’t know what to do, so I waved.

  She glowered my way, and said something to Valeria, who nodded, then started back toward us. She resumed her place before where I was still kneeling.

  “You’re dismissed to the rave,” she said, pointing to an archway opposite the entrance.

  The kids in the rows behind me started to get up. They were all whispering and glancing my way. I stood and walked back to my spot.

  “What happened, Spencer?” Meg asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together. Clearly she hadn’t liked my choice not to smoke the pipe. “I thought you wanted to join.”

  “Said who?” I asked.

  “Well, Grace said so.”

  She’d likely said that to get me invited. Girl could have given me a head’s up. I suddenly wondered what Grace had done when the pipe had been passed her way. I glanced across the room and saw her on her knees before Brittany. I hoped she didn’t do anything stupid.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Costs too much to join this club.”

  “It’s just for fun.”

  “That’s weed,” I said. “Risking my scholarship after I lost it once would be stupid, not fun.”

  She sighed and took my hand. “Let’s just go.” She pulled me in the direction the others had gone—to the rave, I suspected. We passed through a black curtain and down a dark hallway lit with black lights. Sure enough, as we continued on, the pulse and thud of a bass beat began to thrum in my chest. Meg ducked through a doorway on our left, and we entered a dark room blaring techno music. Lights flashed near the ceiling and sometimes panned across the room. Meg pulled me deep into the crowd and started dancing.

  I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to find Grace. But Meg got all up on me—and she was an amazing dancer. So I did my best to dance along. That’s when I felt something prick my arm.

  I spun in the crowd, but all I saw was more dancers. From behind me, Meg wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me against her. I’d never been good at that kind of dancing, so I turned around, but the room spun with me and I staggered into some girl.

  I looked at my arm—at the place I’d felt the prick—but it was too dark to see. I thought about my Band-Aid, about pulling it off and activating the S.O.S., but Meg was holding my hands, and my mind was so fuzzy, I must have forgot.

  I recall going out into the backyard where there was a maze-like hedge garden. It was night by then, and we were doing some kind of scavenger hunt. I stuck by Meg, who didn’t let go of my hand once. I could hardly walk and kept crashing into the hedge wall and its branches scratched my arms. I saw things in that maze. I swear they were demons with claws that bit me.

  When we reached the center of the maze, Valeria was leading some kind of prayer. Everyone was on their knees, hands lifted up above their heads. Some people were bawling, some howling, and others were repeating every word Valeria said. I was half out of my mind, but I knew enough to be terrified of what was taking place around me. I prayed to Jesus, all the things Mr. S had taught us in his spiritual warfare class, and I felt safer because of it.

  That’s all I remember until I woke the next morning, lying on my back in the center of the maze, cold and wet from the dew on the grass. Meg lay right beside me, her fingers entwined with mine. I pushed myself up, and my head stabbed. About two dozen other teens were lying in the maze’s center. There was a bloodstained table here. I looked myself over, thankful not to see any cuts. I did find dozens of tiny pinpricks in rows on my arms. Grid marks. No wonder I couldn’t remember much.

  My pulse started to race. Mr. S had said we’d have to drug test right after. What was going to happen if I tested positive for something? And where was Grace? I hated that they’d taken our phones. I found my S.O.S bandage, thought about activating it, but decided to hold off until I had a real problem.

  I pulled my hand out of Meg’s and stood. I wandered through the maze, stepping over sleeping teenagers along the way. What had gone on out here last night? And why couldn’t I remember?

  I made my way back into the house. Black fabric lined the w
alls, giving me one option—the hallway that led me right back into the first room with all the candles. Some were still lit, having burned down to almost nothing. I didn’t see Grace anywhere. I needed my phone.

  In the foyer, a different woman was sitting behind the table than had been here last night.

  “Good morning,” she said to me. “Name?”

  I looked down. I’d lost my nametag. “Spencer Garmond.”

  She got up and walked into the adjoining room. She returned a few seconds later with my swag bag and handed it to me.

  I found my phone inside and several texts from Grace, the latest of which said,

  im gonna wate in yr car

  Relief washed over me. “Thanks,” I told the woman, then left the house.

  I also had two texts from Isaac, checking on me, and a message from Diane, asking for more details about Renwat and Kimbal. I grinned. Looked like she’d fallen for my fib.

  I checked the time on my phone—6:42 a.m. Excellent. That was plenty of time to get grilled at the field office before my game.

  Sure enough, Grace was in the Banana, asleep in the backseat. I climbed in front and paged through the other texts. They were all from Grace, wondering where I was, except one.

  Isaac: Call me when you can.

  I called him.

  “Wahine! Where you been, man?”

  “I’m still at Valeria’s house.”

  “You still inside?”

  “No, I’m in my car. In the driveway.”

  “Is Grace there?”

  “Yeah, she’s asleep in the back seat.”

  “Great. Drive to the field office, right now.”

  “Are we in trouble?”

  “Don’t think so, but your grandma and Grace’s mom are about to have kittens. I’ll let them know you’re both alive.”

  I thanked him and ended the call. I pulled up my maps app, typed in “Wilshire Federal Building,” then headed out of the hills.

  The app wanted me to take Hilgard Avenue, which was a straight shot south through Westwood to my destination, but I went right on Sunset, then wove my way south through the UCLA campus, feeling wistful. I might not get to go to school here, but next year I’d play ball in Pauley Pavilion as a member of the Arizona State Sun Devils. I slowed to twenty as I passed it. No one was out at this hour, and I was able to have a nice moment, thinking about the future.