Any feeling of compassion, or pity, which I might have held for de La Zouche and his henchmen had evaporated when Annette died. I was not seething wit... red hot rage but instead was consumed by a marble cold, malignant, murderous fury. I had ceased to be human; I was Death, and the horse I rode was pale.The Golden Lion was a much larger building than I had expected. It rose two stories from the river bank, where several barges were tied up by a jetty. I could hear the sounds of a Bacchanalian. I knew she'd said there'd be no shagging, but I liked the way this was going, I liked her smile."Stay there," I said, "and lift up whichever foot you want doing first."Christina lifted her right foot up and I held it by the back of her heel, lowering it onto my leg. I looked at her and she smiled again, then looked at her foot. It was delicate and perfectly sized, with petite toes that it seemed would be a shame not to stroke and hold and kiss. I cupped both hands around her foot and started to. More

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