The Invisible Library (The Invisible Library 1)

Silver squeezed her shoulder again. ‘I’ll be back,’ he said smoothly. ‘Don’t go away.’

Between one blink and the next, he was gone.

Irene put her glass down before she was tempted to drink even more wine. There had to be some way to lure out Belphegor, or whoever had killed the vampire and taken the book. And if this ball was as packed with key society suspects as she expected, here would be the perfect place to gather information.

Several conversations and about fifteen minutes later, she’d reached the Yoruban Ambassador – a kindly-looking man a full head taller than her. He was sporting some sort of ceremonial outfit with gold bracelets that weighed more than her entire gown. She wondered how Silver had got him to visit. ‘So, you see,’ she lied with the utmost sincerity, ‘I’m writing an article on important figures in the literary world. I was going to interview Lord Wyndham, but his tragic death . . .’ She let her voice trail away artistically.

‘I never knew that Lord Wyndham was a literary figure?’ the Ambassador queried.

‘Well, not as such. But he does seem to have been very au fait with up-and-coming novelists. I’d heard that he acted as patron to some.’

‘Ah,’ the Ambassador said comprehendingly. ‘I only knew about his collection.’

Since Irene had entirely invented the bit about his patronage of new writers, she wasn’t surprised. ‘It was a fine one,’ she agreed. ‘And he was always so good about making books available to other experts in the field. Not like some bibliophiles who hoard everything and then just gloat about it privately.’

The Ambassador looked slightly furtive, then loomed forward. ‘One hesitates to speak ill of the dead,’ he said in lowered tones, ‘but I think that is giving the gentleman a little too much credit. He was inclined to boast. His nature, you know. Vampires. They just can’t resist it. I’ve known some very pleasant ones, of course,’ he added hastily.

‘Oh, of course,’ Irene agreed quickly and meaninglessly. ‘But I do think that you’re right, Your Excellency. They are so very proud of their advantages.’

‘Exactly,’ the Ambassador said approvingly. ‘I am glad that our host hasn’t brought any here tonight. They always demand to be catered for in such an obtrusive manner – the blood, the open veins, all that manner of thing. It does get in the way of a simple conversation.’

Irene nodded, suppressing annoyance that Silver hadn’t invited any. She’d have liked the chance to question a few. In fact, why hadn’t Silver invited them, if he enjoyed their company? Or even if he was feuding with them? From what Silver had said about the guest list, inviting half a dozen antagonistic vampires seemed like just the sort of thing that he’d do. ‘It does make matters simpler for everyone else,’ she agreed.

‘And we’re spared the anti-blood-sports protestors.’ The Ambassador collected a fresh glass of wine from a passing waiter. ‘But if you’re a reporter, you’ve probably interviewed a few of them already!’ He rumbled a deep laugh.

‘I like to think there’s something to be said on both sides,’ Irene temporized. ‘But about Lord Wyndham’s boasts . . . oh, I beg your pardon.’ Vale was walking towards them, a slight urgency to his movement. ‘If you will excuse me a moment, Your Excellency . . .’

‘Of course,’ the Ambassador said. ‘About that interview later—’

‘I will contact your Embassy staff, sir,’ Irene said, and retreated with another polite curtsey.

Vale shepherded her back over to the buffet table (was she ever going to get away from it?) and made an obvious show of getting her some canapés. ‘Miss Winters, we need to be careful,’ he muttered. ‘One of my contacts tells me that there’s going to be a strike here, at the Liechtenstein Embassy, this evening.’ Irene suppressed a groan. How many factions were involved in this thing? How was she supposed to conduct a rational investigation with this sort of interference? ‘Who’s doing the striking?’ she demanded in a murmur. ‘And can we use it as a diversion to search the Embassy?’

Vale regarded her from under lowered eyebrows. ‘Miss Winters, that’s a very felonious suggestion.’

‘But it’s a very practical one,’ she said, reminding herself that he was a private detective. Though he didn’t seem to be particularly disapproving. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d suggested it, rather than him, which had forced him to condemn it.

‘Hmph.’ He shovelled more salmon onto her plate. At this rate she’d have indigestion. ‘In answer to your first question, the protestors are the Iron Brotherhood. They are notoriously anti-Fae, so it wouldn’t be out of character for them.’

‘Do you think it would be worth notifying the Embassy staff?’ she asked.

Vale shook his head. ‘They’ll already be expecting something like this. I checked earlier, and they have all the usual precautions – anti-zeppelin guns, glamours, whatever. But do be careful, Miss Winters. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to that lady who just came in.’

The lady in question was currently invisible behind a squadron of male admirers, so Irene watched Vale edge across the ballroom, and tried to hide her overstuffed plate behind a bowl of soup.

‘There’s something going on,’ Kai said from behind her shoulder.

Irene very nearly spilled the soup. ‘Really,’ she said through gritted teeth.

‘Absolutely,’ Kai said. ‘Let me get you some of those blinis.’ He picked up a new plate and started depositing more food on it. ‘You need to eat more: it’ll help the healing process.’

‘I also need to be able to walk without falling over,’ Irene said, watching with growing unease as he ladled on something involving crabmeat. ‘Or dance.’

Kai edged a little closer. ‘Have you found out anything yet?’ he muttered.

Irene considered the facts she’d picked up so far. ‘I think Silver’s waiting for something. Or someone. He seemed on edge. But he’s being distracted by the glitterati.’ She could see him at the other side of the ballroom, talking to a voluptuous pair of women in black who hung on each other’s shoulders, clearly already half-drunk. ‘I’ve been talking to a couple of other people. Apparently it’s odd that Silver hasn’t invited any other vampires tonight. I’m wondering if Wyndham’s attack might have been anti-vampire rather than anti-Fae, and I’d like to ask Vale a few more questions about his family and if they have any links to vampires. Oh, and Vale thinks there’s going to be an attack on the Liechtenstein Embassy by an anti-Fae society called the Iron Brotherhood, and – oh, Kai, please not the sour cream.’

‘You need it for a proper contrast with the blinis,’ Kai said firmly.