Game of Iniquity

First published in Great Britain in 2023 byThe Book Guild LtdUnit E2 Airfield Business Park,Harrison Road, Market Harborough,Leicestershire. LE16 7ULTel: 0116 2792299www.bookguild.co.ukEmail: [email protected]: @bookguild Copyright © 2023 Miray Kose The right of Miray Kose to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. This work is entirely fictitious and bears no resemblance to any persons living or dead. ISBN 978 1915853 691 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. To my dearest Mama and Papa –Thank you for making every day so wonderful CONTENTSPROLOGUECHAPTER ICHAPTER IICHAPTER IIICHAPTER IVCHAPTER VCHAPTER VICHAPTER VIICHAPTER VIIICHAPTER IXCHAPTER XCHAPTER XICHAPTER XIICHAPTER XIIICHAPTER XIVCHAPTER XVCHAPTER XVICHAPTER XVIICHAPTER XVIIICHAPTER XIXCHAPTER XXCHAPTER XXICHAPTER XXIICHAPTER XXIIICHAPTER XXIVCHAPTER XXVCHAPTER XXVICHAPTER XXVIICHAPTER XXVIIICHAPTER XXIXCHAPTER XXXCHAPTER XXXICHAPTER XXXIICHAPTER XXXIIICHAPTER XXXIVCHAPTER XXXVCHAPTER XXXVICHAPTER XXXVIICHAPTER XXXVIIICHAPTER XXXIXCHAPTER XLCHAPTER XLICHAPTER XLIICHAPTER XLIIICHAPTER XLIVCHAPTER XLVTHREE YEARS LATER PROLOGUESt. James’s, Central London, 1887Her blood felt warm on Cassius Ashmore’s hands. He looked down at his wife of twenty years in his arms, his expression full of horror. The sky above darkened, the silvery stars disappearing into the murk of the night. The old buildings slowly closed in on them in the narrow street, smothering them in brick and concrete. Cassius pressed his hand against the stab wound in her abdomen.‘Eliza,’ he breathed. Her eyes were fervent as she stared up at him. She squeezed his arm as she attempted to heave herself up, her lips moving to form incoherent words. Even at the brink of death, Eliza would not go easy, which only deepened the pit of despair forming within Cassius. He screamed for help, screamed until the cords within his throat almost snapped, yet he couldn’t even hear his own voice. His fingers had become slick with blood, dripping down his knuckles onto the cobbled stone.‘Do not leave me, Eliza, please,’ muttered Cassius, pain slashing the lining of his throat. He pressed his gliding hand deeper against the wound, as if he could stop the tendrils of life from escaping out of her. Her breathing turned shallow, the colour draining from her face. A sound drifted from her lips. Cassius leaned closer to listen, thick tears falling onto her cobalt dress as he tried his hardest to shut out the roaring in his head and listen.‘I will not,’ she managed in a rasped voice. There was blood on her lips. Cassius could not tell if it came out of her mouth or from his hands. There was too much of it, colouring the world before his eyes a devilish scarlet. He screamed, and yet, nobody heard him. As he looked down at her again, her eyes started to fall shut.‘No, Eliza, hold on, please,’ pleaded Cassius, shaking her by the shoulders. She stared up at him, her eyes conveying a deeper sadness than anything he had ever seen before. Her raven hair fell over her shoulders, blood dripping off the ends; a goddess of despair in her own right, until the last of her breath escaped her lips and she fell silent forever. CHAPTER IMoralityTower of London, December 1891The sky above hung still and lifeless. It had blackened into hues of obsidian, plunging the alleyway into darkness. The light of the main street was only a faint shimmer in the distance, fading the longer he looked at it. A carriage charged past a street away, the sound reverberating in the stillness where Gabriel Ashmore waited, just opposite the Tower of London. The castle’s domes slashed against the sky, illuminated by the distant slivers of the moon cast down upon the earth. He marvelled at something so ancient, something which had seen the fall of great men, fed itself with centuries worth of blood and tears staining its stones.He took the Erebus out of his pocket. The black powder felt like a heavy weight against his broad palm; Gabriel could picture its darkness even through the fabric of the pouch, darker than the parts of the ocean where light hadn’t penetrated for millennia, a composition of onyx and eternal hell. Suddenly, boots squelched on the wet and muddy ground, nearing him as the seconds ticked by. He turned around and was met with a man who stood before him. He had pulled his hood up, hiding his features. Everyone he delivered to did so. The edges of his coat were dirty and frayed, and so was his voice as he spoke.‘Have you got it?’ The hoarseness of his voice vibrated in the air around them like a broken instrument. He cracked his neck, fumbling with the hem of his shirt, as if something were trying to worm itself out of him. Overcome by addiction. A faint outline of who he used to be before. Gabriel despised this, despised the immorality that was everywhere in London, the immorality he helped spread; but he had no choice. No choice but to merely watch as the city succumbed to the dark instincts that lined each street.‘Payment first,’ he said with a firm voice, holding out his hand. Gabriel’s demeanour was calm against the man’s frantic manner. He’d done this at least a hundred times, so much he’d almost become numb to it. The man’s shaking hand dove into his pocket without question, his head twitching up and down. The man’s hood slid back, revealing a face as white as snow, dotted with droplets of cold sweat, and – Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat, eyes widening – covered in ghastly black slashes. No, veins. They spread under his skin like cobwebs, slightly raised