Lady Reaper Reianne Rewritten [COMPLETED]

Chapter IV: Enter Dark Angel

Admittedly, getting hardened mobsters pissed drunk was not the best idea in hindsight, though it dulled the aches and pain brought by my adventure down the stairs.

I had long given up riding my motorbike when the third car threatened to collide with me head-on, and the lines on the road kept changing locations. I ended up dragging my heavy ass motorcycle, a black Kawasaki Ninja, and one of the few things leftover from my previous life as the Reaper, along the road.

A gust of wind made goosebumps form on my flesh, and I shivered despite the summer night. It must be getting late if even the wind was cooling down.

There was nothing in sight for a good long mile, the road barely illuminated by the two--no, four--street lamps placed too far apart from one another. Only the chirr of crickets that sounded oddly like an Eminem diss track, kept me company.

A misstep caused me to stumble, my precious motorbike crashing onto the ground with a resounding clang that echoed in the night. The world spun as I got up quickly, dusting my hands and wiping my scratched palms on my top. "I'm okay. I'm okay. Not drunk, I swear," I said to no one in particular.

From the curve ahead, the headlights of a car glared in disapproval. I squinted my eyes at it. "I am not drunk!" I screamed as it sped past. It puffed exhaust mockingly. I kicked the ground and sent gravel flying in its wake.

Self-righteous bastard.

I went to where my motorbike was multiplying and set it upright, or what I hoped was upright. It was difficult to tell when the world was spinning.

For a while, I weighed the pros and cons of returning to the Mansion if only to have a place to crash in, because I had a feeling I took a wrong turn somewhere, and I could be going in the opposite direction from where my apartment was. The intense debate between Ms. Yin and Mr. Yang was cut short when a white car approached, headlights looking angry and threatening. Ms. Yin quickly recognized the Mustang logo--a silver horse on a gallop--and noted that the car cost a shit ton of money.

A loud screech competed against the cricket's diss track. The Mustang stopped within an inch from me, and I grabbed its hood for support when I reeled, the earth spinning around the sun faster than usual.

A figure alighted from the car, features partly hidden by the shadows. He was tall and lean. He looked around before settling his gaze down on me.

"What the hell are you doing in the middle of the road?"

I gasped as the man wrenched me out of the car's embrace, and because my battered ribs protested at the manhandling.

"Are you drunk?"

"Me? What? No!" I readily replied, feeling smug that I had fulfilled the obligatory denial expected of all drunk people.

The man grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and massaged his temples. He grabbed my wrist a moment later. "Come with me. The highway is no place for a girl at this ungodly hour."

I giggled and placed a finger on his chest, which was toned as fuck, I noticed. "And I guess a girl's place at this ungodly hour is with you then?" I giggled again. He snorted, but did not reply. He led me to the passenger seat of his car and buckled me in. Something nagged at the back of my mind. Something I had forgotten. Something important.

Mr. Yang paced back and forth in my head, clicking his tongue and flashing gory pictures of reckless, drunk, hitchhiking individuals. Ms. Yin rolled her eyes and checked her nails.

The driver-side door opened and the man sat and turned the engine on. I sat upright when I realized what I had forgotten.

"Blue-chan!"