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 absently stroked down her slim back and over her tight ass, and carelessly let her push her tongue between my lips, so I had to have a deep kiss with her. She made it last for a few seconds before going back to the other side of the kitchen table, sharing a grin with Zann and leaving me with a tingle.“Do you work Saturdays?” asked Zann, coming for a teasing kiss as well.“Sometimes,” I had to smile at her.“Cos I wouldn’t mind trying an idea we had.”“Oh well you can use the office, feel. More

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