Lady Reaper Reianne Rewritten [COMPLETED]

Chapter II: Curiosity Killed Meow

Reaper. It was my street name as a thief, inspired by the scythe-like mark below my neck. For years, I had retrieved and stolen things for shady-as-fuck individuals and had been paid handsomely for it. Until last year, when the law finally caught up with me with the help of my very, very lovable Master Shao. It had only been one year since my last heist, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

"Hugo has a proposition for you, Reaper," the man stated. He leaned his back against the over-sized mahogany desk, folded his hands, and crossed his ankles, a small grin forming on his face. A posture of self-confidence, figure basked in dancing shadows cast by the balcony curtains as they sway with the night winds.

I barely paid attention to him as my mind raced, however. How did they anticipate my arrival? Did Inspector Eugene betray me? I had only known the Inspector for a year, but from what I gathered, he would rather castrate himself than align himself with the criminals. But then again, one of his subordinates might have spilled information about my visit tonight.

With one swift glance across the dim space illuminated only by the reflected light of the moon, I surveyed the room I was in, noting the possible exits and escape routes. As per the blueprint, I should be inside Hugo's study, and other than the balcony door behind me, there was only one more door to my far left, which would lead me to the hallway. No windows whatsoever.

I was considering bashing the man's head onto the Mahogany desk when he strode and snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Hello, anyone there? Geez, you are some overrated fuck."

He did not just say that, did he? Overrated? The motherfucker.

I flicked my fingers, and my needle embedded itself in his groin. Within the next heartbeat, I reached out to muffle his screams, which dissolved and mixed with the heavy pulsating bass downstairs.

"Yhmmmm...damhmmh...bashtaddddmmmm." I sort of understood what he was saying.

"I...hmmmm..mmmmkeeel...yhmmmm." I was pretty sure I understood that one too.

"Shhh, quiet down. I'm not in the mood to kill right now. If you promise to let me tie you up, be calm and not scream bloody murder, I will remove that needle in your crotch. God knows, one minute more with that in your thingy, and you will be celibate as a nun on a deserted island," I whispered, my voice low and husky. His eyes widened in shock, and he nodded his assent vigorously.

"On the count of three, okay? If you shout or scream or make any noise at all except to answer my questions, I will make sure you kiss your sex life goodbye." He nodded again, more vigorously this time. His one minute was almost up.

He whimpered when I pulled the needle from his crotch, his blood tainting his pants. I threw the needle into a nearby garbage can and clamped down on the urge to use my alcogel again.

I shoved him on a swivel chair and, using a masking tape sitting atop Hugo's desk, plastered his body against the backrest of the chair. I then taped his hands together behind the chair and swiveled it so that he was facing the desk.

I pushed my palm against the table, and with a tiny jump, sat on it, crossing my legs in the process with my hands propped on the sides and leaning slightly backward. Keeping half of my face hidden through my cap, I smirked at him. He glared.

"Now, what is this business with Hugo?" I was not interested in it whatsoever. God knew that having Inspector Eugene breathing down my neck 24/7 was terrible enough. Not to mention, Hugo was bad business. Always. I had been part of his organization as a child--as one of its street urchins--and it was a mercy that I got out before it was too late. I had no intention of going back if I could help it. But I had to keep the man talking if I wanted to know how they anticipated my arrival.