Tom looked about to explode. Arrin had been high when he’d picked him up, and he’d taken more while he was sleeping in the same room with him. The unmitigated gall of the man! And he’d been so worried. “You demon spawn!”

“Clone,” Arrin corrected, “although it amounts to the same thing according to prevailing opinion.”

Peter rubbed his face in exasperation. “An opinion you’ve been living up to this last year it seems.”

Arrin glowered at him. “I’ve been clean. Mostly. Besides, I didn’t hurt anyone by taking the drug, and it helped me sleep at a time when rest was much needed. What’s wrong with that?”

“Do you even know what you took?” Clayton asked.

Arrin looked at Clayton...

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