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Chapters (41)
  1. Dexter in the Darkby Jeff Lindsay
  2. IN THE BEGINNING
  3. ONE
  4. TWO
  5. THREE
  6. FOUR
  7. FIVE
  8. SIX
  9. SEVEN
  10. EIGHT
  11. NINE
  12. TEN
  13. ELEVEN
  14. TWELVE
  15. THIRTEEN
  16. FOURTEEN
  17. FIFTEEN
  18. SIXTEEN
  19. SEVENTEEN
  20. EIGHTEEN
  21. NINETEEN
  22. TWENTY
  23. TWENTY-ONE
  24. TWENTY-TWO
  25. TWENTY-THREE
  26. TWENTY-FOUR
  27. TWENTY-FIVE
  28. TWENTY-SIX
  29. TWENTY-SEVEN
  30. TWENTY-EIGHT
  31. TWENTY-NINE
  32. THIRTY
  33. THIRTY-ONE
  34. THIRTY-TWO
  35. THIRTY-THREE
  36. THIRTY-FOUR
  37. THIRTY-FIVE
  38. THIRTY-SIX
  39. THIRTY-SEVEN
  40. THIRTY-EIGHT
  41. THIRTY-NINE

"Sir?" she prompted impatiently. "I was wondering," I said, which was true enough, "do you have any books on possession by demons? Er-in English?" She pursed her lips with great disapproval and shook her head vigorously. "It is not the demons," she said. "Why do you ask this-are you a reporter?"

"No," I said. "I'm just, um, interested. Curious."
"Curious about the voudoun?" she said.
"Just the possession part," I said.
"Huh," she said, and if possible her disapproval grew even more. "Why?"

Someone very clever must already have said that when all else fails, try the truth. It sounded so good that I was sure I was not the first to think of it, and it seemed like the only thing I had left. I gave it a shot. "I think," I said, "I mean, I'm not sure. I think I may have been possessed. A while ago." "Ha," she said. She looked at me long and hard, and then shrugged. "May be," she said at last. "Why do you say so?" "I just, um…I had the feeling, you know. That something else was, ah. Inside me? Watching?"

She spat on the floor, a very strange gesture from such an elegant woman, and shook her head. "All you blancs," she said. "You steal us and bring us here, take everythin' from us. And then when we make somethin' from the nothin' you give us, now you want to be part of that, too. Ha." She shook her finger at me, for all the world like a second-grade teacher with a bad student. "You listen, blanc. If the spirit enters you, you would know. This is not somethin' like in a movie. It is a very great blessing, and," she said with a mean smirk, "it does not happen to the blancs."

"Well, actually," I said. "Non," she said. "Unless you are willing, unless you ask for the blessing, it does not come." "But I am willing," I said.

"Ha," she said. "It never come to you. You waste my time." And she turned around and walked through the bead curtains to the back of the store.

I saw no point in waiting around for her to have a change of heart. It didn't seem likely to happen-and it didn't seem likely that voodoo had any answers about the Dark Passenger. She had said it only comes when called, and it was a blessing. At least that was a different answer, although I did not remember ever calling the Dark Passenger to come in-it was just always there. But to be absolutely sure, I paused at the curb outside the store and closed my eyes. Please come back in, I said.

Nothing happened. I got in my car and went back to work. image