Xev rubbed at his brow as if he had a sudden migraine. Or possible brain tumor. “To begin with, they’re no friends of mine. While I did share kinship with the original Malachai, we were born centuries apart. With the exception of you, I’ve only met a Malachai long enough for him to yank me from my hole, drain my powers, and return me to hell to recharge until the next fun summoning. As for the other šarras, we were enemies in wars where I took great pleasure in kicking their collective asses, so I barely tolerate them.” He straightened to glare imperiously at Nick. “I was born the son of Verlyn and Azura, and fostered by Inari. Have you any idea of the power I once wielded?”

Yeah, that would have been a lot.

Xev passed a bitterly amused glance to Kody. “To give you an inkling, Gautier, I was the only ancient god born who could kill a Chthonian.”

Nick’s jaw dropped at that. The Chthonians were virtually extinct now, but at one time, they had been a race of god-killers who had once waged their own war against Xev’s breed. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. And all that power did was make me a target to everyone around me … for one reason or another. It never once brought me any kind of happiness.” His gaze burned into Nick with his sincerity. “I don’t want to be you, Malachai. Hunted. Hated. Friendless. Without haven. I don’t want to be a part of this world … or of anything, for that matter. I’m done with it all.”

Xev’s gaze hesitated at a picture on the wall of Nick’s Confirmation, where he stood beside his mother outside of St. Louis Cathedral. His eyes flashed red. “I will help you get your mother back for the same reason I saved Nekoda. You were kind to me and I don’t believe in repaying kindness with cruelty. But honestly? All I want is to be left alone and forgotten. I have no use for this world. And even less for you.”

Nick frowned. “You really want me to send you back?”

He rubbed at his arm where the ancient symbols of his curse were branded. “When you’ve lived without kindness for as long as I have, it becomes its own form of cruelty. It stings in its own unique way.”

Nick despised the fact that he knew exactly what Xev meant by that. It was the same suspiciousness he had whenever someone complimented him. He was so used to being insulted that if, by some miracle, he actually got a compliment from someone, he analyzed it over and over to see if it was somehow a veiled insult instead.

How sad was that?

But he couldn’t help it. The world had predisposed him to expect meanness from strangers. It shouldn’t be that way. But it was. It was why Nick went out of his way to try and make people feel appreciated and important. Especially those others tended to overlook—streetcar drivers, doormen, vendors, janitors, bathroom attendants, maids. Hobos.