A Touch of Dead

wounded werewolf supplies her with a satisfying gift. I’m pleased she has such an interesting holiday before the grim events of Dead and Gone .
    I had a good time writing all these stories. Some are totally lighthearted, and some are more serious, but they all shine a light on a little facet of Sookie’s life and times that I haven’t recorded in the books. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
    Let the good times roll.
     
     
    CHARLAINE HARRIS

FAIRY DUST

    I hate it when fairies come into the bar. They don’t tip you worth a toot—not because they’re stingy, but because they just forget. Take Claudine, the fairy who was walking in the door. Six feet tall, long black hair, gorgeous; Claudine seemed to have no shortage of cash or clothing (and she entranced men the way a watermelon draws flies). But Claudine hardly ever remembered to leave you even a dollar. And if it’s lunchtime, you have to take the bowl of lemon slices off the table. Fairies are allergic to lemons and limes, like vamps are allergic to silver and garlic.
    That spring night when Claudine came in I was in a bad mood already. I was angry with my ex-boyfriend,
Bill Compton, a.k.a. Vampire Bill; my brother, Jason, had again postponed helping me shift an armoire; and I’d gotten my property tax notice in the mail.
    So when Claudine sat at one of my tables, I stalked over to her with no very happy feelings.
    “No vamps around?” she asked straightaway. “Even Bill?”
    Vamps like fairies the way dogs like bones: great toys, good food. “Not tonight,” I said. “Bill’s down in New Orleans. I’m picking up his mail for him.” Just call me sucker.
    Claudine relaxed. “Dearest Sookie,” she said.
    “You want what?”
    “Oh, one of those nasty beers, I guess,” she said, making a face. Claudine didn’t really like to drink, though she did like bars. Like most fairies, she loved attention and admiration: my boss, Sam, said that was a fairy characteristic.
    I brought her the beer. “You got a minute?” she asked. I frowned. Claudine didn’t look as cheerful as usual.
    “Just.” The table by the door was hooting and hollering at me.
    “I have a job for you.”

    Though it called for dealing with Claudine, whom I liked but didn’t trust, I was interested. I sure needed some cash. “What do you need me to do?”
    “I need you to come listen to some humans.”
    “Are these humans willing?”
    Claudine gave me innocent eyes. “What do you mean, Precious?”
    I hated this song and dance. “Do they want to be, ah, listened to?”
    “They’re guests of my brother, Claude.”
    I hadn’t known Claudine had a brother. I don’t know much about fairies; Claudine was the only one I’d met. If she was typical, I wasn’t sure how the race had survived eradication. I wouldn’t have thought northern Louisiana was very hospitable toward beings of the fairy persuasion, anyway. This part of the state is largely rural, very Bible Belt. My small town of Bon Temps, barely big enough to have its own Wal-Mart, didn’t even see a vampire for two years after they’d announced their existence and their intention to live peaceably amongst us. Maybe that delay was good, since local folks had had a chance to get used to the idea by the time Bill showed up.

    But I had a feeling that this PC vamp tolerance would vanish if my fellow townsfolk knew about Weres, and shifters, and fairies. And who knows what all else.
    “Okay, Claudine. When?”
    The rowdy table was hooting, “Crazy Sookie! Crazy Sookie!” People only did that when they’d had too much to drink. I was used to it, but it still hurt.
    “When do you get off tonight?”
    We fixed it that Claudine would pick me up at my house fifteen minutes after I got off work. She left without finishing her beer. Or tipping.
    My boss, Sam Merlotte, nodded a head toward the door through which she’d just exited. “What’d the fairy want?” Sam’s a shifter himself.
    “She needs me to do a job for her.”
    “Where?”
    “Wherever she lives, I guess. She has a brother, did you know?”
    “Want me to come with you?” Sam is a friend, the kind of friend you sometimes have fantasies about.
    X-rated.
    “Thanks, but I think I can handle Claudine.”
    “You haven’t met the brother.”
    “I’ll be okay.”

    I’m used to being up at night, not only because I’m a barmaid, but also because I had dated Bill for a long time. When Claudine picked me up at my old