Clutch {Book Three in the Deathly Consequences Series}

Chapter 1

I fought the urge to pace as my sole war room in my entire mansion filled with the Advisors and Elders of the Guild. The ones already present milled among themselves throughout the large, but closed off room. They whispered amongst themselves, shooting me occasional suspicious glances that I ignored. Since the mansion was built, I've only ever called a meeting like this once. When I made the decision that led to my fiancé's, Lucien Grae's death. It's nearly been a year since he's passed, but it was still fresh in my Member's minds since they all wore a variety of anxious expressions. Everyone knew how fucking big this was, and they couldn't have dreaded it more. Gods, it took everything I had left within me to not let my blank, emotionless mask waver as Yasmina entered with Advisor Gregory Leith right on her heels.

Yasmina was one of the Guild's most esteemed Elders; a Seer originating from Louisiana who had been one of the first Members to join the Necromancers Guild after I reinstated the Clan in secret. Recently celebrating her 108th birthday, she appeared just as old as those years while her blind milky white gaze were timeless. The magic of the past, present, and future swirled in those eyes of hers, spearing right through me as she approached. Greg flanked her, giving me the formal salute of our Guild while nodding his head in respect.

Gregory Leith was one of my most trusted Advisors; a middle-aged man who relocated him and his family from Wall Street, New York. Everything financial regarding the Guild I gave to him, and he did a fucking fantastic job despite his bitch of a daughter dirtying my compound. A few months ago, during Yasmina's birthday party in fact, I had a run in with Tiffany Leith. Thinking that her shit don't stank, the teenager tried to go after my personal assistant Julienne. Least to say, I didn't fucking take kindly to that. Last I heard, Greg was still making his daughter do daily rounds of apologies to all the Members she's bullied over the years.

"We're all here Leader Kage." My House Advisor, the one who managed the mansion's personal staff, whispered in my ear. I should probably remember the middle-aged woman's name at some point since she kept me fed, but that was an afterthought in my fucking chaotic brain.

I rose to my feet, the heavy winged back chair screeching against the polished floor and gathering everyone's attention. Tense silence descended over the room, and I waved a hand to the Members near the oak doors in silent order for them to shut it. After that was taken care of, and I knew we had the upmost privacy, I lifted my chin as regally as possible. I was their fucking Leader, and as Julienne and Yasmina constantly reminded me, I had to appear as such. Even I had to give a fuck about that. Any further doubt in my abilities to lead could be the final deaths of us all.

"Take a seat." I said, not bothering to hide the quiet demand in my voice.

I waited until the last Advisor and Elder were seated and the scraping of chairs was no more before retaking my throne-like chair at the head of the long mahogany table. There was at least seven Advisors and five Elders seated at the table that gleamed like polished burgundy obsidian, the lights casting a harshness over everyone's faces. I was by far the youngest one in the room, but there was no question to who the fuck was in charge here. To these people I was their savior and could quite possibly be there doom in the near future, but for now they were listening. That's all I could ask for.

"It's recently come to my attention that a young Member of my Guild has gone missing on the edge of Pack lands." I started without preamble, my gaze immediately seeking out Elder Grezelda Klaus, the grandmother of the Member in question.

A quiet, unassuming woman, I didn't know much about Grezelda except that she had fled from her Guild in Switzerland after the local Clans joined in on the witch-hunt for Necromancers. She was a plump old lady with her steel grey hair twisted in a simple bun at the nape of her neck. Seated a couple chairs away from me on the left, it required no effort at all with my enhanced eyesight to take in her simple, but genuine pearls around her throat and pressed light grey pantsuit. Matching pearl earrings pierced her ears, and her wrinkled face was weary as her plain brown eyes remained sharp. Determination to find her grandson burned in their depths, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the old woman since Julienne had informed me before the meeting that he was the last living relative left in her family.