Chapter 7

His fists still clenched tight in the pockets of his jacket, Jack blankly stared out at the man-made lake in Hope Springs Park. After…whatever that was, he'd stormed out, but then he realized he didn't know where to go. In no shape to be around people in general, he couldn't go back to the Bells'. So he went to the one place where he could be alone for as long as he wanted, and no one would bother him.

He desperately needed that time to figure out what the hell happened back there. One of the reasons he'd run out was because he knew he'd need a good, long while to explain it on his own, without his family's ridiculous paranormal stories. But no matter how many times he replayed the scene in his head, he couldn't come up with a logical explanation. At first thought, the dark blobs could've been holograms, but then they turned to ash. Real ash. Some of it was still on his jacket.

There was that, and…he'd felt fear. Real fear. That instinctive fear that socked him hard in the stomach every time his family was in trouble. While he'd been leaving the Bells' anyway, if he was honest, he'd admit that the fear was what made him leave at that precise moment. What had made him run home as fast as he could even though there was no reason for it.

Maybe that was part of the whole knight thing. After all, a knight's role in life was to protect. He'd always considered himself his family's protector, especially since they seemed to get into so much trouble. Maybe there was more to it than being the clichéd "man of the house."

So if he was born to protect his family…what, exactly, was he protecting them from?

There was the possibility that an actual, human person was after his mother and/or sister, for whatever reason. But why the elaborate set up? Nothing made sense…first Fi was pushed off a roof, then she was attacked by some…things at home. Why would anyone go after a sixteen-year-old girl like that? She never did anything to anyone. In fact, she spent most of her free time on the road helping the weird people she met. Who would be against that?

Jack let out a groan of aggravation when he came up with an answer he didn't like. Of course, he didn't want to believe that some evil being was after his sister. While it was an ugly thought, he almost wished the attacker was human. That way he'd know to call the police. But this was totally new territory. Even if, dare he think it, he did admit that something paranormal was after Fi…would he even be able to help her? As far as he knew, reincarnation didn't come with any freaky power he could use.

"Oh, God," Jack muttered to himself. "This is it. I'm going crazy." He paused. "See? I'm talking to myself and everything."

Frustrated, Jack leaned on the back of the bench and closed his eyes. He wasn't even surprised when another "dream" immediately followed.

Some important local businessmen had just left when Thea rushed into the room and shut the door behind her, her eyes wide with fright. Jerrard was at her side in an instant. "What is it, Thea?

"We didn't destroy all of them," Thea said as she rushed to the side of the room. He fell into step with her. "We thought we did, but one got away," she continued. "And I ran out of gems. We should be safe though as I have some extra in here."

"You make no sense to me, woman," Jerrard spat. He knew it was harsh, but his temper tended to spike when he was confused.

Thea knew this, however in her current state had no patience for his irrational behavior. "I'm talking about the demons, of course," she snapped back as she flipped open a trunk. "On that note, you best make yourself scarce. Mortal weapons are no use against the paranormal."

"You expect me to leave my wife to defend the house alone?" Jerrard sputtered. He could not live with himself if he left a woman to battle evil by herself. Sure, he had no such supernatural gifts as she had been given. But he was her protector, in every sense of the word. He could not accept that he was meant to stand by, totally useless, while his love fought.

Husband and wife stared each other down for almost a minute. Finally, Thea tossed him a leather pouch full of gems. "Throw them at the demon, and it will be destroyed."

As Jerrard caught the pouch and readied himself for battle…

Jack jerked awake, his eyes wide after the lesson he'd been taught. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," he mumbled to whatever greater power was sending him the dreams. "I'm supposed to help protect my family, embrace my knight 'heritage,' blah blah blah," he muttered resentfully.

Though of course he didn't want to believe in the paranormal, he couldn't deny that his family was in danger. He supposed he could somehow manage to ignore what had happened and go back to his regular, denying self. But he just knew that his family was in immediate danger and they might be seriously injured, or worse. And he'd never forgive himself if that did come to pass. His sense of duty easily overpowered his refusal to believe.

Besides, witnessing that battle had nearly forced his eyes open anyway. While it seemed impossible, an entire lifetime of intense denial had been completely contradicted in only minutes. Sure, if he didn't believe his family was in danger, he might've dragged this emotional trauma out a little more. He'd probably would've been moody for weeks afterwards, refusing to speak to his family, moping around the house. But that stupid little protective instinct told him there was just no time.

That in mind, Jack reluctantly got up from the bench and began to walk home at a slow pace. He was not looking forward to confronting his family about this. But at least, after his dream, he had a better idea of what was going on. Those black shapes must have been demons, because the gems Thea used were the exact some ones he'd seen Fi use, then used himself.

Wait. If those were the same gems, and the black shapes were presumably the same demons, then…

Jack stopped mid-step, his eyes wide.

Oh, God. Witches. His sister, and…and his mother…and possibly…

A reincarnated knight with possible witch powers. Oh, God, he was a freak.

Maybe, once this was all over, he could claim temporary insanity and be done with it.

Her son had saved her life.

She didn't know how, exactly. One minute she and her daughter were about to be blasted into oblivion. Then the next, Jack appeared like…well, like a knight in shining armor, determined to save his family even though he had no clue what was going on. She was so proud, so grateful…but also worried. After all, an actual demonic attack was hard for her to take in, and she'd already been adjusting to the idea of magic for a while. Even Fi was understandably shaken up, and the argument could be made that she was actually somewhat used to these kinds of supernatural confrontations.

That in mind, Molly was extremely concerned that her son was out somewhere having a nervous breakdown. She'd wanted to run after him, but she'd been so stunned speechless, unable to move. Fi was much the same way, otherwise she would've gone after him too. Molly could only hope that he'd just gone to the park or some similar place where he could be alone for a while.

She couldn't just wait around for him to show up, though. It would drive her nuts. So what was she doing? Cleaning up the demonic ash that covered the living room. Also in need of a distraction, Fi had volunteered to help.

"You know," Molly began, simply because she was sick of the quiet. "I never thought just cleaning would be so incredible. But here I am, trying to get demonic ash out of my couch cushion."

Fi chuckled. "I guess even witchcraft has a not-so-glamorous side to it," she joked as she wiped down the coffee table with a sponge. She paused. "Remind me to look up a cleaning spell."

"That might come in handy," Molly agreed. She frowned at the soiled couch cushion. "Especially if this stain doesn't come out. I'll have to tell Irene that I've started smoking cigarettes." Molly tilted her head as she gave the idea some consideration. It would explain any black marks they missed.

Instead of laughing at the joke, Fi glanced up at her in surprise. "You mean…you're not going to tell her yet?" The question was asked with a subtle note of anger. "Even though Jack knows now?"

Molly hesitated. She hadn't been thinking about that when she'd said the offhand remark. But Fi had a valid point. Of course, Jack would be more than happy to keep the secret, and theoretically they could hide it from the Bells for as long as they wanted. To be honest, Molly really didn't want to tell them, because doing so would undoubtedly cause total chaos between the two families. While Irene was the calm counterpart to her own occasionally irrational behavior (which was why they worked so well together as manager and recording artist), Molly really didn't think Irene would be calm enough just accept that magic existed. And it wouldn't be fair of Molly to expect that from her.

In order for their friendship to survive the unbelievable secret, Molly would just have to deal with the fallout, and wait for Irene to come around. She wasn't sure she could do that.

At least, not yet anyway. She had promised Irene she would tell eventually.

Upset by the thought, Molly sat down on the couch and reluctantly faced her daughter, who took a seat in the club chair across from her. "I know you don't want to keep secrets, Fi. And that you never cared what anyone thought of your beliefs. I so admire that. But…I'm not that brave, baby," she confessed. "If Irene…doesn't take the news well…and I lose her as a friend…I don't think I could handle it."

"But Mom, if you don't tell her, you might lose her anyway," Fi reminded her. "Hasn't she been worried sick about you for the past few weeks? You start lying to her on a regular basis, she'll know. She's smart like that. And then won't only be worried. She'll be angry too."

That was another valid point, one Molly hadn't really considered. Irene had already confronted her several times on the issue, in the space of only a couple weeks. Could she reasonably expect Irene to stick around if the manager knew that Molly was always lying to her? Knowing how much Irene valued honesty, probably not. Heck, she'd been mad for days when she found out that Molly hadn't told her about Carey dropping out of college.

So maybe it was better to just tell her, then. That way Molly could just deal with it right away, instead of being scared for years, wondering when Irene will become fed up with the lies. Molly sighed. "I guess you're right, baby. It might be better to get this over with now."

"And it might not be that bad," Fi said. At Molly's incredulous look, she explained, "Come on, you and Irene have been best friends for what, twenty years? She's not going to abandon you just because you're a witch." Fi then sighed. "Unfortunately, I haven't been best friends with Candy for that long. But I'm going to tell her anyway. Both because she deserves to know, and because I don't want to lie to her either."

Molly gave her a reassuring smile. "Whatever happens, you'll be able to handle it. Now that is one thing I know for sure." Fi smiled back, but neither of them felt any kind of confidence.

The moment was broken when Jack returned. Fi noticed first, then slightly nodded in his direction to tell her mother to turn around. Understanding in her eyes, Molly whirled around as she stood up to face her son. "Jack, baby, I…" she began, then realized she had no idea what to say.

Jack stared them down for a long moment, his eyes unblinking. Finally, he said, "You're witches, aren't you?" No accusation, no anger, just…defeated acceptance.

Their mouths open in shock, Molly and Fi could only stare back while he waited for confirmation. Fi managed to close her mouth and swallow nervously. "Why…how…" she began.

"That doesn't matter," Jack interrupted, his tone harsh. "Just answer me."

It took all of Molly's willpower not to lower her eyes as she replied, "Yes, baby. I'm so sorry."

She expected Jack to storm out again. He surprised both of them when he slowly nodded. "All right then," he said, no emotion in his voice. "I want to help with…whatever you're up against. But after that, I want nothing to do with this stuff, ever again. Okay?"

While Fi was in too much shock to protest, Molly managed to answer, "Okay."

Then Jack rushed past them and went up to his room.

Early for work as usual, Irene had her cell phone held up to her ear with one hand while she flicked on the light switch with the other. As expected, the studio was empty. She'd learned a long time ago that musicians were not prompt. "Are you getting here soon, Mol?" she asked into the phone as she began settling in. "I wanted to go over some things with you."

"Oh, I'll be there…a lot sooner than you think."

Irene froze at the odd answer. "What's that supposed to mean? Jack came over just as I was leaving to drop off some homework. He said you were still getting ready."

"That's right, I was."

"Then how can you possibly get here faster than the twenty-minute car ride it takes from your house?" Irene retorted, aggravation in her voice. "Come on, Mol. I haven't finished my coffee yet. I don't have patience for mind games this morning."

"Sorry, I just… Irene…there's no one in the studio, right?"

Bewildered, Irene simply answered, "Right. But to be fair I'm a little early."

"Oh, yeah. Um, I'll see you in a minute."

And then she hung up.

"A minute?" Irene asked aloud as she stared at the phone. "What the hell is going on…" she muttered to herself as she took off her jacket and started up the coffee maker. She still had the store-bought coffee she'd quickly put on a table when Molly had called, but she had a feeling that she'd need the second cup soon enough. To be honest, Irene wasn't exactly happy with the singer's odd behavior lately, but they did have a record to make.

Of course, she was more worried as a best friend than as a boss. She'd gone over the Phillips' house over the weekend, and there had been a definite tension in the air whenever all three family members were in the room. Molly seemed constantly on edge, as if there were a million thoughts running through her head at any given moment.

Actually…Molly seemed a little nervous around her. Irene thought Molly might calm down when the two were alone, but actually she seemed to be worse. Not looking Irene in the eye, choosing words carefully, and a constant cryptic note to Molly's voice had Irene even more concern than she had been. There was no question that something big was going on, and that call just confirmed it.

Given Molly's confession about believing in the supernatural a few days ago, Irene wasn't sure she even wanted to know what was going on anymore. But in a way, she really did…just so she could stop coming up with her own troubling explanations, each worse than the one before it.

Her cell phone rang again. And again, it was Molly. Irene let out a deep breath before she answered. "What now?" she demanded, much harsher than she intended. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Mol. I'm just so sick of…"

"My behavior, I get it. I promise it's going to end now. It's just…please, keep an open mind. And go in the booth."

"Mol? What the hell?" Irene snapped, but found that the call had ended. Frustrated, she went into the recording booth, even though she felt ridiculous. Nothing was going to happen in it. She was the only one in the whole studio.

At least…she was for the moment. The air around her seemed to get wavy, as if a TV show was transitioning to a dream sequence. Irene blinked and tried to convince herself she was just seeing things. But then, once the strange sensation stopped…Molly was there.

Irene jumped back, then blinked again. Nope, still there. "What…how…" She reached out and poked Molly's arm to confirm that the impossible had, in fact, happened, and it wasn't just some kind of trick. But there she was, the real Molly, standing right there in front of her.

"Hi," Molly said sheepishly. "I told you I'd be here in a minute."

Spooked, Irene backed up, a wary eye on her best friend. "How the hell did you do that?" As hard as she was trying to think of an explanation, she just couldn't do it. There was no logical way to explain how Molly had appeared in the recording booth, like…like…

Her eyes widened. "Magic," she whispered.

Relieved, Molly nodded. "Yeah," she replied quietly. "I'm…Fi and I are…"

"Witches," Irene breathed in disbelief. She'd heard Fi mention it once in a while, but she never, ever thought it could actually be true. "What…how…"

Molly sighed. "It's a long story, but…it's been in my family for generations. I guess I knew it all along, but I just refused to accept it. I've been in denial since I first started getting visions when I was young."

Oh my God, Irene thought. Magic…witches…visions…this is not the Molly I know. She stared blankly for a second, then asked, "What changed?"

"Everything," she said. "During that visit to see my parents a few weeks ago…it all just came out. Fi was determined to find some answers. She got them. And so did I, even though I wasn't asking." She paused. "When your own mother tells you she used to practice witchcraft before she came to America, when a family friend uses magic right in front of your eyes, when…" She hesitated and lowered her eyes. "When you talk to your own grandmother's ghost, it…it affects you."

"Oh…my…God. You're serious…" Irene whispered. She wasn't sure what to feel. Disbelief, sure, there was plenty of that. But…angry, confused, concerned….it was all there too. For a brief second she wondered about Molly's mental health. But she couldn't do that without questioning her own. After all, Molly had just appeared right there in the studio, when Irene had just been talking to her on the Phillips' home phone (as she'd seen on the caller ID). Besides, she had faith in Molly's sanity…and her previous complete hatred of the paranormal her daughter researched. If Molly believed in magic now, then she must have seen the real thing.

And it frightened Irene. A lot.

Anxiety on her face, Molly insisted, "Irene, I promise, I'm still the same person you've known for twenty years. I've just…learned something new about myself." At Irene's incredulous look, she added, "Don't get me wrong. This totally freaks me out."

"All right, there's some of the Molly I know," Irene muttered, her arms crossed.

Molly chuckled. "Yeah, I mean, I pretty much had a breakdown during that trip. I don't want any of this. But…my daughter's in trouble, and she needs me. That made it easier to just…move forward without thinking too much about it."

"In trouble? With who?" Irene asked, bewildered. Then she got it. "Or with what, I guess I should ask."

"Yeah," Molly answered, fear in her voice. "I know this is hard to believe, but…demons. They're after my baby." She lowered her eyes again. "I'm scared, Irene. Really scared. If this thing beats us…we might not…well, these…demons…they could wipe us all out. We lucked out a few days ago, but…" She paused to let out a deep breath. "The point is, Irene, I might not have much time to work things out with you. I realize this is too much to ask, but I just need you to accept this right now. If you want to freak out on me later, go ahead, I don't care. But right now…I'm scared to death and I need my best friend to be there for me. Please, Irene."

She was telling the truth, Irene could see that much. She'd heard that intense fear before - right after Rick had died. And Molly truly thought that she could suffer that kind of horrible loss again.

So…it was enough for Irene. While she doubted she would ever completely accept the whole magic thing, she believed that Molly needed her support. After twenty years of friendship, Irene wasn't going to let her down. Even if it meant believing that her best friend was a witch.

"Okay, one question," Irene began. When Molly tentatively nodded in consent, Irene grinned. "You're not going to start wearing a black conical hat, right? I think that would be really bad for your image."

Molly burst out laughing from relief while Irene gave her a reassuring hug.