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“Sounds like quite an ordeal.” I wasn’t expecting that kind of story. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn he’d become a recluse because the other vampires had shunned him—other vampires who were trafficking humans for their blood.
“I have a question for you now,” he continued. “Why is it that women named Anya are always whores?”
I was beginning to understand why Otto didn’t entertain visitors. “I don’t know anyone named Anya,” I said. Then again, I didn’t know a lot of anybody, which suited me fine.
“Consider yourself truly blessed.”
I was losing patience with the vampire. “Is this a riddle, Mr. Visconti?”
The intensity of his playing increased. “No, simply a slap at my ex, who’s been getting off with yet another vampire if the rumors are to be believed.”
“She’s human?”
“Very much so. Has a thing for vampires, I discovered too late. She was married to a human when I met her, so I assumed I was her first. Her husband is a car salesman who sold me a vintage Jaguar. I collect antique cars, you see. I later learned he screwed me on the car while she screwed me. I wasn’t the first vampire to ride her either.” He shook his head and said, “I should’ve known she was trouble.”
I was uncomfortable hearing the sordid details of Otto’s personal life. I barely acknowledged my own.
“You collect cars you can’t drive?” I asked.
Otto’s head snapped to attention. “Is that so different from collecting dolls that you don’t play with? Or coins that you don’t spend?”
“I don’t collect anything, so I couldn’t say. Why are you telling me this story about your ex, Mr. Visconti?”
“Because I’d like to offer you a deal. I would be willing to make inquiries about trafficking and your missing human if you’d be willing to make her suffer.”
Curiosity got the better of me. “Suffer how?”
“However you choose. A lovely scar on her face would do. She’s rather vain, and it would keep her out of the spotlight. Attention has always been a drug to her. I would relish cutting off her supply. Honestly, I don’t know how she draws us in. My hands told me she isn’t even very attractive.”
“Then why get involved with her?” I asked.
“Looks don’t matter as much to someone like me.” Plink went the key.
“Because you’re blind?”
“How insensitive of you, Miss Clay. Because I’m horizontally challenged. A short stature as a male vampire is an undesirable trait.”
“Which is why you were unpleasant and arrogant.”
“Indeed, to mask my perceived inadequacy. Yet another reason I mastered the piano. It’s a rare talent to be able to play with hands this size.” He wiggled his short, stubby fingers.
“A Napoleon Complex.”
“A myth,” he replied. “Napoleon was at least average height. It was simply an inept attempt to convert foreign measurements.”
“What makes you think I can cause your ex any suffering?”
“I sense power in you. Whatever it is, use it to cause her pain.”
It seemed that, despite the curse on him, somebody still hadn’t learned his karmic lesson. “I’m sure there’s a random psycho you could employ who could give you a similar outcome. Or maybe a witch with a spell to make her undesirable to vampires.”
Otto turned back to the piano keys. “I do not engage with witches.”
“I try my best to avoid them too,” I admitted.
“Have you spoken to the police chief? For a human, Elena Garcia is more than competent.”
That sounded like high praise coming from the curmudgeonly vampire. “I’ve spoken to her. At this point, I think local supernaturals are my best bet.”
