Read Online The Demon Deception by Mark Harritt - Free Book Online Page A

introduction, Lazarus visited the
gang that the three had come from. More dead bodies persuaded them
that Little Caughnawaga was not an area to mess with, and that they
shouldn’t think about approaching Sam or his family. Lazarus found
a fast friendship with Sam, and began mentoring him in uses of
controlled violence. When he was satisfied with Sam’s capabilities,
Lazarus told him what he did. Sam didn’t believe it at first. It
took a visit to Wall Street before Sam understood what he was up
against if he worked with Lazarus.
    Sam was a Marine. He had been raised as a
Catholic, and still attended church. When he found out who his
friend Eli was, he’d been in awe. He jumped at the chance to help
Lazarus. It didn’t hurt that Lazarus was willing to supplement
Sam’s income. Ironworkers made good money, but property taxes in
New York had risen steadily, making home ownership more expensive.
Eventually, the awe subsided as they continued to work together and
train together. Their partnership had parted ways on a mission in
California. That was when Lazarus had gone to Brazil.
    Now, Lazarus walked down the street, smiling
at the children, waving at people that he recognized. They waved
back, recognizing Sam’s benefactor and mentor. Some yelled
greetings, some asked where he’d been. This was a tight knit
community. The people were friendly as long as they knew you
belonged. If they didn’t think you should be there, though, Sam
would get a call and he would deal with the situation. Nobody had a
problem with Lazarus though. Where Sam was concerned, Lazarus slept
with the angels, literally. Still, there was that problem with
California, but he didn’t think that Sam would hold that against
him. Lazarus walked to Sam’s brownstone, checking the address to
make sure he was in the right spot. He walked up the sidewalk, onto
the steps, and rang the doorbell.
    Sam Diabo was making a sandwich when he heard
the doorbell ring. Mooch, his gray tabby was meowing on the floor,
hoping for a piece of cheese. Sam had been spreading mayonnaise on
wheat bread, and put the knife down. He walked over to the door and
looked through the peep hole. A frown crossed his face. His craggy
features made the frown seem more severe. He unlatched the various
locks on the door and then opened it. Lazarus looked at the
mountain that stood just inside the door. Sam looked around to see
if anybody was with Lazarus. Lazarus stood with his hands in his
coat pockets, “Are you going to invite me in?”
    Sam thought about it, “Dunno, maybe.”
    Lazarus walked through the door, not waiting
for the invitation. Sam frowned again, “Yeah, come on in, make
yourself right at home.”
    Lazarus saw the sandwich makings on the
table, “Ah, just in time for lunch.”
    Sam smiled, “It’s ham and cheese. You want me
to make you one?”
    It was Lazarus’ turn to frown. Raised from
the dead, he had incontrovertible proof about the source of his
resurrection, but he still tried to follow the laws of Moses. He
was Jewish, after all. A lot of water had gone under the bridge
since then, though. He thought about it, and shrugged, “Yeah, sure,
I’m hungry.”
    Sam walked back to the kitchen, Lazarus
following. Sam stood a good nine inches taller than Lazarus. Sam
was an iron worker, with the muscle and broad shoulders that came
with the job. He was dressed in a white tank top, blue jeans, and
work boots. His arms were cabled with muscle developed working on
the One World Trade Center, and from his time in the Marine Corps.
He had rugged, good looks that reminded Lazarus of a young
Elvis.
    Sam talked as he walked, “So, Eli, you don’t
visit, you don’t call. I was thinking we wasn’t friends no more.”
His Brooklyn accent punctuated the cadence of the accusation. Eli
came from the original pronunciation of Lazarus’ name, Eleazar. In
fact, Lazarus’ registered name on his driver’s license was Eli
Bethany. Most people wouldn’t get the ancient