Dragon Clans Bk 01 Pt 04

There is a clarity that comes at the moment of death, real or perceived, that people are just not ready to deal with. The white light, the tunnel, that's what everyone expects, the reality is far different.

............

Ian lay on the hard stone floor. The first things that came to him were the base senses, the cold, slowly creeping into his flesh where it met the stone, the throbbing behind his eyes and the general ache of someone who had undergone severe blunt force trauma.

Then it was warmth, the warmth from fingers on his shoulder, running through his hair, gently shaking him as the fog finally lifted.

Millie found Ian lying on the ground unconscious. Rushing too him she called for Cedric. A groan then a moan then eyes opening, not focusing, fear.

"Ian what is it, what happened?" Millie asked a tad too frantically as Ian rose to a sitting position, feeling the bruise on his right shoulder from where he had fallen to the floor.

"I think Michael is dead," Ian said to no one in particular.

............

Cole looked down at the body, shaking his head.

"I knew it was all too much for him," Cole said to Fred standing next to him.

Cole had seen the flash just as he had gotten to the front door, the brilliant white burst that he had seen once to often could mean only one thing

"Better call 911 Fred, tell them there has been a suicide," Cole said as he reached for his own phone to call Ian and tell him the bad news.

Both men were surprised when they heard a very much alive Michael Dane say "911 won't be necessary, who the hell are you and why the fuck are you in my house."

............

Light and Dark. There was no neutral gray between them. One moment there was a blinding flash like the death gasp of a dying sun, the next, utter darkness.

You would expect a floating sensation something akin to riding a magic carpet. The actual experience was one of intense weight, as if the whole of the universe was now resting directly on your shoulders. The weight was overpowering, awe inspiring and desperately comforting all at the same time.

The darkness did not last long.

Again the expectation was pure white, pure gold something ethereal and otherworldly; so the overcast pall with the brownish hue was startling and comforting all at the same time.

"Michael," a single word, spoken with the tone, inflection and depth that could only come from one person.

"Sasha," Michael sighed.

"It's not time yet my love," Sasha's voice said from somewhere beyond Michael's perception, "you know you have a destiny, something that will complete you, when that is done we will be together"

Michael was struck by the absolute truth of it, there was no grieving, there was no sense of loss only an overwhelming feeling of love and finality.

"Why were you not part of my destiny Sasha, why is it I'm always to face these things alone," there was a bitterness to Michael's thoughts that seemed contrived, as if trying to talk his way out being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"You are never alone my love, you never have been and you never will be, we will always be with you, you carry us as you carry your own soul," Sasha said, sounding like a wave on the water, first near then far away. "And she is always with you, think back on your life and you know it is true, she walks next to you, she whispers in your ear, she sheppard's your soul, you are never alone my love. I will be here waiting when your time finally comes, now go, let the weight of this place lift from you and go back, she is there waiting for you, her long rest is at an end, find her and fulfill your destiny."

The scene shifted too quickly and fundamentally to be described, one minute being in touch on a level of such depth that you are...everything, the next an eye opening, trying to focus on the carpet below you, wondering what just happened, how the hell you missed and who the fuck is standing over you.

Cole reached down and helped Michael to his feet 'Sorry about that, we were driving by and saw the flash, the door was open," Cole said as he stepped back from Michael.

"It's not a problem, considering my life recently, having two good Samaritans wanting to help out is actually a nice change of pace." Michael replied as he sat down on the bed.

"Can we call someone for you, looks like your in kinda rough shape," Cole was looking for a way out of here quickly, this is not the low profile he liked to keep.

"No, I think I'll be fine now," Michael said standing on shaky legs as he walked the men downstairs to the door.

"Glad everything is ok, sorry to bust in on you," Cole said as he turned and began walking across the street to his car.

Michael watched him go, Sasha's words echoing in his ears, 'it's time to start living again,' Michael thought as he closed the door, already making lists of things that needed to get done.

............

"Thank you Cole," Ian finished and hung up. He was stunned by the conversation he had just finished and poured himself a glass of Bruichladdich and then sat down on the couch.

"Michael's not dead," he said absently to Millie. She was relived but worried as well, things like this did not happen with Ian.

Ian thought about what had happened in the last hour, he was sure that the massive blast of physic energy emanated from Michael and was caused by his death.

Ian smiled and rose, walking over to Millie he took her in his arms and pulled her too him. His lips nuzzled her ear, "everything will be alright now, we need to get Michael here, this incident could only have been caused by one being," he said with a smile in his voice.

Ian loved the smell of Millie's hair as he held her close to him, he could feel her shiver, knowing that finding him must have been incredibly frightening for her.

"I'm fine," he cooed into her ear "this incident was not directed at me, it just confirms what we have believed all these years, that Michael is the one."

Millie was relieved and she relaxed as Ian held her, soon their new life would start, soon it would just be them, living and loving for each other.

Ian let Millie go and walked towards his office. "If everything works out right, Michael should be here within the month," Ian said over his shoulder. 'Time to contact Oxford and get the ball rolling,' he thought as he picked up the phone and began to dial...

............

It had been two weeks since the attempt, which is what Michael called it in his head. Since then he had gotten back to some semblance of normalcy.

The house was under contract; due to close in a week, Michael had listed it for a ridiculously low price but knew it was important that it was gone.

"That's the last of it Mr. Dane," the mover said as he walked past him with the last 3 boxes.

'Moving on,' Michael thought as he glanced into the house one last time and then locked the door. The realtor would do the walkthrough with the buyers this afternoon and then it would just be signatures, a chapter closed, memories filed away for some future time when the loss was diminished and the need to remember the good times stronger.

Sliding behind the wheel of the GT3 he popped the clutch and lit the tires up as he accelerated down Maple St for the last time.

Michael walked into the DMD offices with the same sense of history hanging over his soul. So much of the last 12 years of his life were spent here, working on projects, joking around with Steve, planning their futures, making love to Sasha in his office during stolen lunch breaks. Could he come back here, did he want to?

"Good morning Gale," Michael said as he passed Gale's desk.

"Umm, good morning," a surprised Gale responded, watching Michael stride by in his standard uniform, faded jeans and a long sleeve button down shirt with sleeves rolled above his elbow.

'He looks thinner,' Gale thought to herself as she buzzed Steve to let him know that Michael had come into the office.

Michael closed the door behind him and slowly took in the office. It was him; from the pictures of Steve and himself in front of the sign going up all those years ago, to the most recent addition to the office, a casting of Sasha's pregnant belly with his hands on her, the room emanated...Michaelness.

Walking over to the desk and sitting down he was overwhelmed by the amount of mail. 'Well taking several weeks off will cause that,' he thought to himself as, with sword letter opener in hand, he dove in.

About half way through the stack Steve walked in and sat down across from him.

"How's' it?" Steve asked in their familiar abbreviated language.

A shrug and a wane smile was the answer.

Steve watched his friend go through the mail for several minutes in silence, measuring what to say next to his best friend and partner.

"We received an offer on the company," Steve stated.

Michael was shocked, while DMD was a known and respected company; it was rare that an architectural company was purchased.

"Who is the offer from?" Michael asked.

"Interesting question," Steve responded starting the story.

"About a week ago an attorney showed up, I met with him, figuring that he needed an office built or renovated. Turns out that he represents an architectural group out of New York who are looking to acquire three to five offices through out the southeast. They had reviewed our work and clientele and thought we would be a good fit." Steve paused and took a drink from his ever-present bottle of water before continuing. "They would be looking to keep all the staff as is, bring in a few of their own people to head up the architectural and construction divisions. They asked that I stay on for 6 months to consult and smooth the way with the existing clients." Steve said with a wry grin on his face.

"Hmmm." Said Michael, "So you get the cushy consulting gig and I get kicked to the curb eh?" Michael stated, sharing his friends smile.

"Seems they are aware of your recent issues and thought it best to give you some space, they have a young architect already lined up to take your place buddy boy." Steve joked.

"So how much are they offering for our hopes, dreams and futures my friend?" Michael asked as he stood up and walked over to the mini fridge to grab a mountain dew while searching his back pocket for his Zippo."

"Sixteen million." Steve stated flatly, letting the number hang in the air.

Michael almost choked.

"You've got to be kidding me, there is no way DMD is worth that kind of money." Michael said dropping back into his chair and lighting up Marlboro Light.

"I know, but their reasoning on the price is sound," Steve said. "With the work we have done and the contacts that will continue to bring work for years to come, it's a number that takes all that into account."

Michael was stunned, "What do you think?" Michael asked, already having a good idea of the answer.

Steve's grin grew as he answered. "You know me hoss, I love the company and I love working with you, but it's an awful lot of money, enough to retire, I like the idea of being retired before 40. I've talked it over with Marsha and she seems to like the idea of me being around more, I'm sure that's just so I can take over some of the chores," he laughed. "I've never heard of an offer like this for a firm our size, I can't imagine it would come again. They would want non-compete clauses; some fairly stiff ones, no working east of the Mississippi for 10 years. For me that's no big deal, Marsha has wanted to move back home to Colorado for years and the kids love it out there too." Steve finished watching his friends face, getting no clue of what he was thinking.

Michael knew what his answer was as soon as Steve said he was for the idea; moving on; seemed to be the theme of the day.

"How soon do they want to move forward?" Michael said stubbing out his cigarette and pulling another one from the pack.

Things moved quickly over the next week. Michael packed up his office at DMD, took those boxes and added them to the few he had placed in long-term storage from the house. The DMD bon voyage party was bitter sweet, lots of good lucks and I'll miss you's.

The New York firm wanted to move quickly and less than a week after Michael first heard the offer the deal was closed and he was eight million richer. With that added to what was already in savings and the insurance from Sasha, money would never be an issue.

He had sold all the cars, except for the GT3, which was now in storage along with the rest of the things he couldn't bare to get rid of, and couldn't bare to have around.

Sitting at the gate waiting for the puddle jumper that would take him to Atlanta then on to New York and his final destination London, Valerie's phone call replayed in his head.

...............

Michael was just finishing packing his last box at the DMD offices two days ago when the call had come in.

"Mr. Dane I have a Valerie Smyth on the phone from Oxford University who would like to speak with you," Gale said over the intercom.

'Oxford, interesting,' Michael thought as he punched the speaker button on the phone and said, "Hello, this is Michael Dane."

Valerie was shocked when she actually heard Michael's voice for the first time.

She had seen his picture and kept up on the latest goings on in Michael's world through her uncle Ian.

Adopted by Ian and Millie when she was 16 after her own parents, friends of Ian and Millie's, died in an automobile accident Valerie was treated as part of the family. She had gone to school and received her letters from Oxford, becoming a professor and serving on several of the schools committees, one being the visiting professor committee.

The call from Uncle Ian came a bit unexpectedly.

"Do you think you could arrange for a visiting professorship for Michael in the design department if I was to sponsor the position?" Ian asked Valerie that day about a month ago.

Thinking about it for a minute she responded, "Sure, I believe that the design department is 4 professors down for the coming term, Michael could easily fill in for any number of the design classes."

From there it was pretty simple, 3 committees and a review of his credentials and Michael was approved as a visiting professor of Design and Architecture.

The class schedule would be light for the term, only two classes per week, an Intro to Design class for first years and an advanced concepts class for final year students. Valerie was pleased to be able to help Uncle Ian out and hoped that Michael would be a good professor, which would help her own career a bit.

Michael's deep unaccented voice fairly vibrated through the phone as she caught herself before becoming overwhelmed.

"Mr. Dane," Valerie began, "My name is Valerie Smyth I'm a visiting professor coordinator at Oxford in England."

Michael chuckled to himself; her voice was mesmerizing with the wonderful English accent and formality of her tone.

"What can I do for you today Ms. Smyth?' Michael asked, sitting back in the chair that was almost not his anymore and lighting a cigarette.

"We have had several of our professors in the Design and Architecture school move on to other opportunities and in our search for fill in professors you have come to our attention. Your work on the Axis Tower in Jacksonville and the Nexus Center in Orlando reflect a great many of the design and spatial use doctrines that the program is currently highlighting. Would you be interested in coming to Oxford and teaching for a term?" Valerie finished, breathless but not because of the speech.

Michael thought the offer over.

"How long would I need to be in England for? Michael asked closing his eyes and taking a long drag off his cigarette, providing that wonderful grown up feeling that had got him hooked in the beginning.

"Our term starts in 3 weeks, we would ask that you come into town as soon as possible for orientation and to get settled prior to classes starting. The terms are 12 weeks so we would need you for just about the next 4 months." Valerie offered, a slight quaver in her voice.

Several things went through Michael's mind all at the same time. One, I have nothing better to do. Two, getting out of here for 4 months might be an excellent idea. Three, there is nothing holding me here.

"Can you FedEx me all the information Valerie? I would be happy to come Oxford," Michael said, satisfied with a decision for the first time in months.

Valerie sighed audibly, "Of course, I'll get everything out to you first thing in the morning. You should have your travel plans and directions by the following day, thank you so much and I look forward to meeting you."

Michael smiled and said "Goodbye Valerie, I look forward to meeting you as well."

It started waiting at the gate in NY, he had just 30min before his flight for London left and he wanted to get one more cigarette in before boarding.

Throughout his life there had been moments like this, one minute everything is normal, the next he felt like a static electric charge was building up throughout his body.

The sweat broke out immediately, one of those hot flash sweats that start at the top of your head, bathing your scalp in moisture hidden under your hair. In the past this had always presaged something big, no real bad or good connotations just...big.

Michael looked around the smoking lounge, no one seemed out of place, your standard 22nd century museum exhibit of "Smokers in a Glass Box".

The feeling intensified, stubbing out the Marlboro he walked out of the crowded booth, feeling a bit lighter once outside in the large atrium.

Striding back up to the gate he heard first class being boarded, he was glad, happy to leave the sensation behind.

As with all first class sections, the seats were larger than the rest of the planes and the smiles on the stew's faces were larger as well. Settling in he ordered a Jack & Coke, watching the other passengers file by. Nothing striking, just your average mix of tourists and businessmen either coming or going or transiting to a destination farther down the line.

The sensation came back 10 fold as the oriental woman stepped onto the plane.

Moisture soaked through Michael's shirt, sweat beaded on his forehead, his nuts felt like they were sitting in a peat bog.

And then there was the voice.

'She knows what you are Michael, she will kill you and everyone on this plane if you don't stop her.'

Michael was slipping into shock, too much too fast, tunnel vision, clammy palms, falling fast; and then she was there, with him, holding his soul in her...wait, the oriental woman.

Black eyes, black hair, olive skin, two rows back and to his right, alright focus, no one in the seat next to her, one carry on between her legs, focusing on the plane, the starboard engine, no fear, no soul only...pure malevolence.

'Eliminate her Michael, focus on her, look deep inside, find the pulsing light, extinguish it.' The voice in his head was gone as quickly as it had come; only seconds had passed.

Closing his eyes he focused, he was picturing the top of her head; the black aura around her was like winter storm clouds roiling and rolling, controlled fury. He passed though the clouds, looking for something to lead the way; there it was, between her heart and her stomach, the pulsing maroon light, maroon wasn't the right color for this thing he thought in passing. Moving closer he reached out to it, he could not reach it, he felt sudden tension immediate pain, NO!!! his psyche growled and pushed through the pain and barriers, he held it for an instant this throbbing mass of dark energy, of evil life, and then, he snuffed it out.

The stewardess noticed the handsome man sitting in first class didn't look good, pale, sweating, eyes closed, hands gripping the arm rests in a death grip. 'Oh great, another hand holder,' she thought as she finished his making his drink and walked towards him.