The words sounded very unpleasant said out loud. But they were the truth. “Yes, because Claude’s a fairy. But not because he’s a different race from us.” I struggled with how to express what I wanted to say. “Fairies, they love kids. But they don’t have the same frame of reference as most humans. Fairies’ll do what they think will make the child happy, or will benefit the child, rather than what a Christian adult would do.” It made me feel small and provincial to admit all this, but those were my true feelings. I felt like adding a series of disclaimers—Not that I think I’m such a great Christian, far from it. Not that non-Christians are bad people. Not that I think Claude would hurt Hunter. But Sam and I had known each other long enough that I was sure he’d understand all that.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Sam said, and I felt relieved. But I was far from comfortable. We might be on the same page, but I wasn’t happy about reading it.

Spring was verging on summer, and the day was beautiful. I tried to enjoy it all the way east to Monroe, but my success was limited.

My cousin Claude owned Hooligans, a strip club off the interstate outside Monroe. On five nights a week, it featured the conventional entertainment offered at strip clubs. The club was closed on Mondays. But Thursday night was Ladies Only, and that was when Claude stripped. Of course, he wasn’t the only male who performed. At least three other male strippers came in on a rotating basis pretty regularly, and there was usually a guest stripper, too. There was a male strip circuit, my cousin had told me.

“You ever come here to watch him?” Sam asked as we pulled up to the back door.

He was not the first person to ask me that. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with me, that I hadn’t felt the need to rush over to Monroe to watch guys take off their clothes.

“No. I’ve seen Claude naked. I’ve never come over to watch him do his thing professionally. I hear he’s good.”

“He’s naked? At your house?”

“Modesty is not one of Claude’s priorities,” I said.

Sam looked both displeased and startled, despite his own earlier warning about the fae not thinking kin were off-limits sexually. “What about Dermot?” he said.

“Dermot? I don’t think he strips,” I said, confused.

“I mean, he doesn’t go around the house naked, does he?”

“No,” I said. “That seems to be a Claude thing. It would be really icky if Dermot did that, since he looks so much like Jason.”

“That’s just not right,” Sam muttered. “Claude needs to keep his pants on.”