Demon Hunters: Book 1 Faith [editing]

Chapter 64

"We got spirit! Yes, we do! We got spirit! How about you?"

The noise! Crispin placed both hands over his ears.

On the gym floor a squad of girls waved red and black flags in a choreographed dance. The color guard, they were called. Zoe might have found them more entertaining had it not been for all the ruckus. 

Suddenly everyone in her section of the bleachers stood up, throwing their hands in the air in some kind of wave-like pattern. Zoe and Crispin stood, but didn't raise their hands. Neither did Mason.

"Yeah! Go Falcons! Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!" Dominic screamed, making odd circular motions with his arms. Even Lin screamed. Diego yelled out, "Go, team!" 

Only Mason remained quiet. Instead, he watched her, but his look wasn't the same. She knew something was off. He kept his distance, hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans. Normally, he would tentatively reach a hand behind her back or stand so close to her that his arm or shoulder would gaze hers. Such movements annoyed her, but she figured this was part of the ritual of going to a school dance with a human boy.

Mason whispered, "Your first prep rally?" He waited for an answer, lips pressed together. He mouthed, so lightly that no other human could have heard, "Please, tell me the truth." 

Zoe glanced at Crispin, who either didn't notice or didn't care, before facing Mason, who flinched when their eyes met.

What harm would it do? "Yes." She spoke loud enough for him to hear.

Mason's eyes widened, and he nodded. "You have good hearing," he whispered again, a volume even lower than his last utterance.

Zoe shrugged. "I guess, so."

"You heard me?"

"Of course, I heard you."

His eyebrows rose. Then he shot to glance at Crispin, who still held his hands over his ears. "Can he hear like that also?"

Crispin can hear, but he never listens or pays attention.

Just then the music stopped, and the color guard bowed in unison and marched off the center floor.

"Go, Riley!" Diego yelled. 

Dressed in a Falcon's cheerleader uniform and using one crutch to steady herself, Riley ambled towards the center with a microphone. "Hello, Central West Falcons!"

The student body roared. 

Crispin groaned and shook with such discomfort that both Mason and Zoe cringed. "I guess, the answer to that question is yes," Mason said. 

Riley raised her hand in the air. "Are you ready for the Central West Falcon cheerleaders? Are you ready?"

Again a cacophony of sound erupted around them. "Let me hear you stomp!" Riley yelled. She clapped her hand over the microphone repeatedly in a measured beat. 

The students stomped their feet to the rhythm, shaking the bleachers. 

Zoe had more practice tuning out such chaos than Crispin, who looked like he was going to explode. 

"Here! They! Are!" Riley yelled, her volume amplified through the speakers. 

At that moment—just as the cheerleaders kicked and stomped their feet, a dance that at first seemed mechanical and then tribal—three students in the front of the gym screamed in agony. Each wore a long black trench coat.

Demons! What are they doing here? 

They pushed through the mob of students, knocking several to the ground, and fled the gym, hands over each of their ears.