Okay. I was looking for a little expansion on the theme here. “The bars aren’t keeping you occupied?” Between owning and operating two strip clubs—Hooligans and a new place he’d just taken over—and performing at Hooligans at least once a week, I’d imagined Claude to be both busy and well-to-do. Since he was handsome to the nth degree, he made a lot of money in tips, and the occasional modeling job boosted his income. Claude could make even the most staid grandmother drool. Being in the same room with someone so gorgeous gave women a contact high. until he opened his mouth. Plus, he no longer had to share the club income with his sister.

“I’m busy. And I don’t lack for money. But without the company of my own kind. I feel I’m starving.”

“Are you serious?” I said without thinking, and then I could have kicked myself. But Claude needing me (or anyone, for that matter) seemed so unlikely. His request to stay with me was wholly unexpected and unwelcome.

But my gran chided me mentally. I was looking at a member of my family, one of the few still living and/or accessible to me. My relationship with my great-grandfather Niall had ended when he’d retreated into Faery and pulled the door shut behind him. Though Jason and I had mended our fences, my brother very much led his own life. My mom, my dad, and my grandmother were dead, my aunt Linda and my cousin Hadley were dead, and I rarely saw Hadley’s little son.

I had depressed the hell out of myself in the space of a minute.

“Do I have enough fairy in me to be any help to you?” That was all I could think of to say.

“Yes,” he said very simply. “I already feel better.” This seemed a weird echo of my conversation with Bill. Claude halfway smiled. If Claude looked incredible when he was unhappy, he looked divine when he smiled. “Since you’ve been in the company of fairies, it’s accentuated your streak of fairy essence. By the way, I have a letter for you.”