Runaway (The Knight Society #1)

I woke with a start at the sound of light knocking on my door. Sluggishly sitting up, I strained my ears to hear the mumbles on the other side of the door.

“Jack? It’s me, Pierre, there’s dinner being served at the moment in the Commons Room. Just take a left at the end of this corridor then a right, and then another right. I’ll meet you there.”

Groaning, an incoherent agreement spilled from my mouth despite wanting nothing more than to roll over and fall back asleep. Taking that as a yes, I listened as Pierre’s footsteps slowly receded from the door. Somehow I wormed my way to the bathroom and let the steamy water coax me out of my lethargic state. Upon searching the room once more, I found a pair of black jeans and a red tank-top that fit like a glove. How these people knew my size was beyond me, but I slipped them on anyway.

Staring at my appearance in the bathroom mirror, I tried and failed to tame the insane waves and curls my hair had dried into while I slept. The girl who stared back at me was not someone I recognized. My black hair toppled over my shoulders with great abandon. My cheeks seemed hollow and my arms and legs were slightly thinner though the firmness of my muscles still made them look healthy. Shadows weaved under my eyes, making my expressions appear all the more gauntly. My eyes were different from when I had last seen them. They always seemed to revolve around three central colours: green, blue, and gold. Today, like most days, green dominated them whilst the other two lightly interspersed throughout. The colour was not what caught my attention though. It was the sadness, grief, and anger that clung to them. Turning away, I shoved on my trusty boots, tightening the laces with sharp tugs.

Opening the door, I quickly set off trying to remember Pierre’s instructions. After multiple turns and an age of walking, I was sure I had done something wrong. Frowning, I tried to retrace my steps but only succeeded in getting more lost. I turned once more and begun to walk again, when the sound of footsteps stopped me. I raced towards them and crashed into a muscular frame. Startled yells came from both of our mouths as we struggled to maintain balance. Curious blue eyes stared back at me and I stepped back to find an easy grin on Avery’s face. I expected his body to tense and back away at the sight of me, but he just smiled down at me.

“You should be more careful you know, running into people can be dangerous around here.”

One eyebrow shot up. Was that some kind of joke about yesterday?

Apparently not noticing my confusion he continued. “Guess you must be new here?”

That’s when it hit me. He didn’t recognise me.

Trying not to let my humour creep into my voice, I spoke softly, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Interest now peaked, he studied my face but I saw no signs of recognition.

“I guess you would be lost then? Where were you trying to get to?”

Deeply amused now, I put on my best innocent sounding voice and looked him in the eyes.

“Well I was trying to get to the Commons Room, but I think I took a wrong turn somewhere. Somehow I ended up here and was so confused. Perhaps you could show me where it is?”

Okay, so I was laying it on a little thick but he soaked it up like a sponge. Grinning, he nodded and started to walk away, more than happy to fill the role of the big, strong hero. Rolling my eyes, I followed silently and within seconds we were at two large doors.

He may be dim, but at least he’s a useful one.

Gesturing triumphantly at the door, he beamed down at me.

“Here we are, my lady.”

I inwardly groaned.

So cheesy.

Opening the doors at the same time, we strode into the room and were greeted with a lot of faces. The room was like a large cafeteria. Dozens of tables filled the space, most occupied by people sitting down to enjoy their evening meal. Delicious smells wafted from their plates and my stomach grumbled loudly. Some people glanced up at our arrival but quickly dismissed us and went back to their meals.

So they didn't recognise me either…

It was a slightly surreal experience. People always tended to stare wherever I went, the gossiping whispers followed me like an annoying shadow. For a moment, I revelled in the anonymity. I recognised a few people from the crowd watching me yesterday and marvelled at how blind they could be. Of course, I'd looked like I had been dragged through hell and back the last time they had seen me. But still, I had to wonder how much I had changed in the two years since I'd left the society.

How different was Jack from Jacqueline?

Laughter threatened to burst from my chest at the silliness of it all. Pierre glanced up and when his gaze fell on me, his happy grin somehow expanded. He opened his mouth to speak and I tensed in anticipation.

His voice rang out over the sounds of the early morning chatter, “I was beginning to think you had gotten lost, Jack.”

The tension in the room sky-rocketed and everyone looked towards the door. Apparently, my name had circled fast around here and Pierre had just dropped it like a bomb in the middle of everyone’s dinner. Confusion covered their faces as all they saw was Avery and I. A few even manoeuvred in an attempt to see behind me and with that, I exploded. Laughter rolled off me uncontrollably. Avery stiffened next to me and I looked up to see his dumbfounded expression staring back and a new found wave of laughter overtook me. Finally calming down, I gripped my legs to steady myself and straightened up. Wiping a tear from my eye, I wondered how long it had been since I had last laughed like that. Not since Thomas’ death, that’s for sure. Looks of shock covered everyone’s faces, except Pierre who’s held a knowing smile.

Grinning, I walked over to him and took the vacant seat on his right. The shocked expressions followed me and I chuckled once again. What were they expecting, a bloodthirsty monster to appear? Glancing around, I realized that’s exactly what they had been expecting. My grin grew. How surprised they must be that their prodigy was just an ordinary girl like everyone else. Looking down at the plate someone had already filled for me, I spotted a bread roll. Seizing it, I cut it in half and slathered it with butter, almost moaning in delight after my first bite. God, how I had missed good food. Turning to a now equally amused Pierre, I sat back in my chair and broke the silence.

“So, what’s up?”

Everything hit the roof. The whispering built from a few murmurs to a full blown chorus of voices within seconds. The room seemed to split into two groups of people: those who believed, and those who didn’t. A few people even whipped out their phones and tried to snap a few pictures. Thankfully they were told off before I had to go over and break their phones. Most people seemed delighted to have a minor celebrity at dinner with them. I was tempted to stand on my chair and yell that they should all soak it up now because I was here for one night and one night only. Two guys stood in a corner speaking in hushed tones.

One raised his voice loud enough for me to hear, "Like that’s the famous prodigy. She doesn’t look like she could hurt a fly.”

One woman even looked down her nose at me and sneered the words Satan spawn. That one hurt my feelings the most. The Knight sitting next to me jerked back so quickly in an attempt to escape, he fell off his chair. I laughed again and a look of fury seized his face. Standing up he grabbed a revolver hanging from his belt and pointed it at my head. The room quietened instantly.

Despite his anger, his voice was startling calm, "What are you thinking, Pierre? How do you know we can trust her? How do we even know she is who she says she is? No-one has seen Jacqueline Bell for two years. For all we know she’s dead in some ditch somewhere.”

His words were greeted with murmurs of agreement from the surrounding crowd. I glanced up at him, taking in the tattoo on his hand marking him as a Knight. My eyes met his and I saw the suspicion in his features. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to my dinner taking another bite of my bread roll.

So good.

My gaze found Avery where he stood rooted at the door, his expression tight. He stared at me with calculating eyes, all the earlier happiness gone from his face. Giving him a wink, I chuckled as his eyes widened in surprise and then squinted in anger. Pierre sighed and looked up at the guy still apparently holding me at gunpoint.

“Drake, please put that gun away. There is no doubt in my mind that this is Jacqueline Bell and that we can trust her.”

Begrudgingly, he slowly put away the revolver, picked up his plate and marched to a seat at a different table. The display of obedience left little doubt of how much power Pierre had over these people. However, despite his announcement, I could still feel the doubt radiating off people. Unfortunately, I had neither the desire nor the capability to prove who I was. Instead, under their spotlight gazes, I continued to happily eat my dinner. The chicken was just as amazing as the bread, if not more so. Perhaps it was due to the fact I had slept in a roach free bed for the first time in forever or that I was eating decent food, but my mood was through the roof.

“Oh my, what a warm welcome!” I slathered on the sarcasm as thickly as I could.

The murmurs started again at the sound of my voice. The corner of Pierre’s mouth quirked slightly and he took another bite of his own dinner.

“So, what’s the time?” I asked.

His brow furrowed in disgruntlement at the reminder that my stay was on a limited twenty-four hour basis.

“7:26 PM.” He murmured and I did the calculation in my head.

“Well you’ve got me for another 12 hours and 43 minutes. How best do you want to spend your time?”

“Well I was hoping to show you around the Institute for a bit but with the reaction you received here I’m not so sure that’s a good idea anymore.”

I scanned the room full of distrustful faces once more before turning back to Pierre.

“Yes why is it that everyone is so… disbelieving?”

Pierre cleared his throat and took a sip of water before answering, “The ah… tensions are running quite high after the attack yesterday. Thanks to you nobody was hurt, but mongrels have never managed to get into the Institute before and there’s been some um, speculation as to why it’s happened now.”

Well that sounded positively delightful.

“And what, pray tell, is the gossip mill churning out as the cause?”

Pierre cleared his throat again, "It has been suggested that you may be responsible…”

I launched out of my seat.

“What!?” My voice came out high pitched and squeaky. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it though?”

Turning to find the source of the voice I spotted Avery. He began to slowly walk along the table until he stood opposite me. My anger reared its head and he was the unfortunate target.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stopped directly opposite us and stared pointedly at me, "How can we know you are who you really say you are? How do we know that you aren’t some sort of imposter here to lead the mongrels in to attack us?”

Oh, I was so ready to give him another kick in the face.

“Um, perhaps the fact that I just killed six of them yesterday in order to save you people and then afterwards tried to run away?”

He snorted and my fists clenched into tight balls.

“How do we know that you didn’t lure them here on purpose in the first place?” He replied snidely.

It was my turn to snort, “Yeah because I did all that while I was unconscious for however many hours. I lured six mongrels here, just so I could kill them and then run away. Wow, where on earth do I think of these brilliant ideas?”

The arrogant look on his face faltered and I cheered on the inside.

Chew on that Giggles.

“Okay fine, maybe you didn’t lead them here but how do we know you’re actually Jacqueline Bell. Where’s your proof?”

I rolled my eyes, “Sorry buddy I don’t carry ID around with me. But I have feeling that wouldn’t convince you anyway.”

The smirk returned, "Nope.”

Gritting my teeth I had to resist from leaping over the table and beating him silly. I glanced at Pierre and saw his pleading expression; somehow he knew exactly what I was thinking. For his sake, I swallowed my anger and pride. Through clenched teeth, I stared Avery in the eye and tried to work out some way to prove who I was. Avery on the other hand didn’t seem content to wait.

“For all we know you’re just some look alike who thinks they can profit off their resemblance to the real Jacqueline.” He spat out offhandedly.

Rage ignited in my stomach and I almost hoped he would say the wrong thing just so I would have an excuse to beat his ass.

“Heck you probably killed the real Jacqueline.” He continued, unaware his life hung in the balance, “Let me guess, you probably have her whole life story memorised. Well why don’t you tell us what happened the night her partner died?”

White hot anger flowed through my veins and I practically vibrated with it. Closing my eyes, I prayed he chose his next words very carefully. I didn’t want anyone else’s blood on my hands both figuratively and literally.

“No-one really knows the full story, but everyone has a theory. So was it a mongrel or was she so in need of attention that she killed him to get the spotlight all to herself.”

That did it. My eyes snapped open as I grabbed a nearby steak knife. Raising it over my head, I quickly slammed it down in the gap between his fingers, deeply imbedding it into the table. He stared down at his fingers in shock and I waited till he met my gaze again before talking.

“You say another word and I will stab you so many times that no amount of H-toxin could ever patch you up again.” My words were low and filled with barely contained rage.

They hung between us and the silence stretched until it was interrupted by loud familiar laughter. It was the kind of laugh you’d expect to hear from Santa Claus and I turned to find the source. Standing at the door stood an extremely familiar looking large man looking at me with eyes dancing with amusement.

“Oh that’s Jacqueline alright.”

I blinked a couple of times, before it clicked and I stared at him in disbelief.

“Uncle John?” I asked and the man smiled.

He was a giant of a man, both in size and weight. Coming in at about six foot five, he was covered in thick muscles. He was from my mother’s side meaning his skin was pale and his hair thick and black like mine. The addition of a bushy beard was what threw me off in the first place but underneath all that hair I could see the loving uncle that had partially raised me. I had been so concerned with running away from all the bad stuff at the Institute I had forgotten that I had left some good stuff behind. Uncle John was most definitely included in that category. He was the one who had tucked me into bed at night, the one who’d taught me to ride a bike and asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up rather than just assuming like everyone else that I wanted to be a Knight. He was the only adult that reminded me it was okay to be a kid, that I didn’t have to be a prodigy all the time. A wave of sadness clogged my throat and I blinked back the emotion.

“Hey there squirt. Long-time no see.”

The childhood nickname caused me to laugh and I ran towards him, Avery and the steak knife forgotten. He held open his arms and I jumped into them feeling like a kid again as he spun me around. When my feet were back on the ground once more I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face.

He looked down at me, mock seriousness on his face. “Now what’s this I heard about you taking on twenty mongrels by yourself?”

I choked on a laugh, "Twenty!? God no, it was only six. Rumours really get crazy around here.”

He let out a huge sigh, shaking his head slightly.

“And here I was thinking you had improved since I last saw you.” He teased and I smacked him on the arm, smile still in place.

He grinned down at me, the familiar teasing twinkle in his eyes warmed my insides in a way I hadn’t felt in a while.

“What are you doing here? I thought you and Aunt Jill were staying in London?”

His face lost some of its warmth and the smile slipped off his face. Worry clenched at my heart.

“Sorry squirt, I guess you didn’t hear because you’ve been away and all but Jill passed away just after you left.” He choked off, emotion contorting his face.

My already broken heart cracked a little more. I barely managed to keep from dropping to the ground right there and then. The only thing keeping me upright was my refusal to show weakness in front of the crowd of people watching us. Aunt Jill wouldn’t want me to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. So I kept it in and pushed it back until I could grieve in private, just as I’d done with Thomas.

If Uncle John was like a father to me then Aunt Jill was like my mother. Uncle John’s hand softly rested on my shoulder and I looked up at him. The grief and sadness I saw on his face were probably reflected on my own and I died a little bit more knowing that I wasn’t there to help him grieve at the time.

“How?” I whispered.

His grip tightened, “The cancer came back. Took us all by surprise.”

The pain in his voice almost did me in. Instead, I clenched my eyes shut.

My voice hoarse with emotion, I tried my best to convey the regret and grief swamping me, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He squeezed my shoulder once more and I knew he was trying to tell me he forgave me but I was too flooded with guilt to reply. Another person I loved had died and I wasn’t sure I could handle it if another was added to the tally. I don’t think my heart could take it.

“Hey” Uncle John grumbled, his voice gruff, “you know she wouldn’t want you crying over her.”

No, Aunt Jill would want me laughing and remembering all the good times but all of a sudden the good times seemed far out of reach.

“She especially wouldn’t approve of the way you’re letting all these people walk all over you.” He added, the teasing crawling back into his tone.

I laughed softly. I could just hear her voice telling me to turn around and kick some ass. Aunt Jill taught me to be brave, to never back down no matter what. It would be letting her down to walk away now. Taking a deep breath, I cleared my head and pushed it all away to deal with later. I’d done it with Thomas so many times, it was almost second nature. Opening my eyes, I glanced up at Uncle John and saw the pride shining in his eyes. Determination sparking inside of me I gave him one last sad smile.

He returned the gesture before whispering softly, “Give ’em hell squirt.”

Turning around, I faced the room of people who looked at us with sympathy. Ignoring their looks I marched back over to my seat. The steak knife still stuck out of the table, Avery, however was out of sight. Grasping the handle, I tugged it free, sat back down and resumed eating. The food had lost its earlier appeal but I shovelled it into my mouth anyway. The seat next to me creaked as Uncle John sat down, plate in hand. The room was still quiet, and it was beginning to grate on my nerves. Pierre thankfully broke the silence.

“What made you so sure it’s was, Jack?” he asked, probably to reassure the last disbelieving people.

Or maybe just to clear the air of all the sadness. Either way, I was grateful.

Uncle John chuckled softly, "Back home, not a dinner went by in which Jack didn’t threaten to stab, maim, or kill someone.”

Laughter echoed around the room and I flushed slightly. Uncle John’s casual use of my new name warmed some of the ice inside me and I found myself smiling.

“Yeah, but usually those people deserved it.” I retorted.

Pierre raised an eyebrow, “Usually?”

I shrugged, flashing a wicked smile, “Well the rest of the time was for consistency’s sake.”

More laughter filled the Common’s Room.

From there on in the rest of the dinner moved smoothly. People seemed to accept my presence with some ease, although there was of course gawkers here and there. One by one they began to trickle out of the room either going to bed or off to other tasks they had to fulfil. I ate my meal as slowly as possible, not having anything to do or anywhere to be. Uncle John also dashed off at some point saying he had Knight stuff to take care of. I hoped I would get a chance to see him again before I left. Finally, when my plate was practically licked clean I decided to risk an attempt to find my way back to my room. I had just stood up when a voice called out from behind me.

“Hey, Jack!” I turned to see the blond guy from this morning walking up to me.

He had an easy smile in place and I could tell he was the type of person who could become friends with just about anyone.

Just like Thomas.

A voice whispered at me and I quickly told it to shut up. The guy came to a stop in front of me and I folded my arms over my chest.

“I’m Ed.” He stuck out his hand and I glanced at it warily before shaking it.

“Jack,” I said.

He shook my hand enthusiastically and warning bells went off in my head, shouting at me that I was about to get fangirled.

“Oh, I know. You won’t believe how many people have come up to me since this morning asking about what happened. You’re like a superstar around here. Everyone wants to know what happened and how you killed those mongrels and if it was true you did it with your bare hands. Of course, I told them they were wrong and that you used a sword and steak knives but they didn’t believe me. They also didn’t believe you threatened Victoria with a spoon, said I was lying but of course then I got Bobby to tell them I wasn’t.”

Damn this guy could talk. He took another deep breath and I jumped in before he launched into another paragraph long sentence.

“That’s great and all but is there any particular reason you’re telling me all this?”

Rude, I know, but all I wanted to do was go back to my room and cry my eyes out over Aunt Jill.

Ed seemed temporarily stunned by my abruptness and I felt a twinge of guilt.

He recovered in record time though, “Oh right. Pierre said that I should give you the grand tour because he isn’t able to.”

Part of me wanted to say no, but the other part, the one desperately in need of a distraction agreed.

Ed gave me another easy grin and held one arm towards the door, “Shall we?”

Smiling back, I followed him out. Letting myself relax I studied his appearance again. I would be lying if I said he wasn’t extremely attractive. In fact, he was the kind of guy before Thomas’ death I would have been drooling over. However, when on the run your priorities get rearranged and eye candy didn’t seem so important.

Noticing my staring, he looked down at me and grinned. “Would you like a picture?” I sputtered and he laughed. “I was just kidding.” Glancing up at him again he winked down at me. “So where would you like to see first?”

I gave him a shrug, “Wherever you think is good.”

He stood in silence for a moment and his brow knitted together in concentration.

Face lighting up, he looked back down at me. “Got it! Right, this way madam.”

He began to walk down another corridor, forcing me to jog after him.

Finally, we came to a stop in front of two extravagant doors. Carved into the wood were dozens of tiny little patterns. Brushing my fingers over the wood something told me this was only a prelude to what was inside.

“Here we are. This is the Hall of Records. I figured we may as well start with one of the most interesting places.” Grinning once again, Ed pushed both doors open and we stepped inside.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

A giant hall with paintings lining the walls greeted me. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. A giant crystal chandelier hung from the roof in the centre of the room, gently illuminating the paintings. Finding air once more, I took a hesitant step forward. I think Ed may have been looking at me, possibly even talking but I was so absorbed in the beauty of the room I hadn’t noticed. Always having loved art, this was like Christmas day after thirty years of not having any. I felt a slight tug on my shoulder and let it guide me. Coming to a stop I turned to see a depiction of a glorious battle. I already knew the painting by sight. It was one of my personal favourites. The beginning of the end was a painting featuring a medieval knight who stood atop a rock, gripped in his hands was an Institute sword. He stood facing a rather vicious looking mongrel whilst below him a field burned and other men and mongrels were engaged in battle.

“This is a picture of Sir Haythem…uh…” He trailed off and I gave him a look. “Oh come on! There are so many names I can’t remember them all!”

I rolled my eyes and he chuckled.

“Wykeham. His name was Haythem Wykeham. First ever Knight.” I murmured.

Ed glanced over at me, surprised. I don’t know why, I’ve had everything about the Knight Society drilled into me since birth. A child prodigy couldn’t just be skilled at slashing and killing, they needed to be intelligent as well according to mother dearest. I smirked at Ed.

“Why so surprised?” I asked and he flushed.

“Never really heard stories about you that didn’t include a sword and some form of violence.” He mumbled, looking more and more embarrassed as time passed.

“So you just assumed that I was a brainless idiot whose only skill was cutting up mongrels?” I teased and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

Deciding to give him a break, I turned back to face the painting. “Well I learnt history along with the rest of you. Besides Haythem is the first ever Knight, pretty common knowledge.”

Ed seemed to regain some of his earlier confidence.

“Oh really? And how well do you know your history exactly?” he nudged me lightly with his arm.

I flashed him a wicked grin, “Oh, I’m the best. Take Haythem here for example, he made it his life’s mission to fight against the mongrels for his king and country. Now being a smart man he knew that if the general public found out about this it would cause panic and unnecessary havoc. So he decided to conduct everything in secret with a select group of people he trusted. That’s where the whole Knights of the Round Table thing came from. Anyway, Haythem for the rest of his life built this secret group of people whom he dubbed ‘Knights’ and taught them to fight against the monsters which he called half-breeds or mongrels. Over the years the group he had built began to change once more of the world was established. It was found out that the mongrels were more of a worldwide problem rather than just local. So more knights were established in other countries. As the numbers of knights grew it was understood that the one central place Haythem had built and set up so many years ago would not do anymore. So more institutions were built.”

I looked around the room till I spotted a map of the world which was divided by green lines, marking off countries into sections, each of which was labelled with a number.

“The people who built the institutions were crazy efficient but also not rich enough to build a main Institute in every country. So upon realizing this they split the world up into zones. In each zone there are a number of countries. So one of these countries was decided upon to hold a main Institute, such as the one we are in now. Whilst all the other countries in the zone would have branch Institutes which are considerably smaller. There’s also some sub branches in countries that are their own zone because they are larger. So now with all these Institutes all across the world they could easily communicate and fight against the mongrels easier. Nowadays, the Institutes are used to train and teach willing children how to fight the mongrels. We also house those who are involved in Knight Society but have no interest in becoming Knights themselves.”

After my long speech he gave a low whistle, “You weren’t kidding, you really know your stuff.”

I shrugged, "They don’t call me prodigy for nothing.”

The words were tinged with a bitter undertone but thankfully Ed chose not to comment on it.

Our conversation stopped and I gazed around the room once more. Another interesting painting caught my eye and I walked over to admire it.

“What’s the story with that one?” He quietly asked.

I smiled as I studied the painting labelled, The Great Fast of ’83.

“Now that’s an interesting story.”

For an hour we quietly moved from painting to painting. Sharing the stories of each one with each other. With

r whispered words and shifting shadows marking our presence.