Chapter One

Rafe's First Day at Goliaths

Rafe

My neighbour was a total asshole.

His backyard was a mess, always overgrown and littered with trash from the stupid fucking parties he threw too often. He kept odd hours, and he made zero effort to be quiet when he came home at two or three in the morning some nights. Slamming his car door. Whistling as he sauntered up his driveway. Blasting godawful country music the moment he got inside.

When he'd first moved in next door a few years ago, I'd attempted to reason with him. I'd gone over there to politely ask him if he could keep it down. He'd always just smirked at me and said "Sure thing, neighbour" then promptly ignored the request.

So then I'd started going over there and hammering on his door at two in the morning, snarling at him to shut the fuck up. That'd only made him worse.

Now, I just tried to ignore him. I blasted white noise at night to block out the sounds. I avoided looking out my upstairs back windows, because the sight of his yard filled me with unreasonable rage. I pretended he didn't exist if we happened to be getting in or out of our cars at the same time.

Unfortunately, Dan Ewen was a hard person to ignore.

"Howdy, neighbour," he'd drawl if he spotted me, seemingly unbothered by my clenched jaw and seething glares in his general direction. In fact, I was pretty sure they only made him worse.

"Actually goin' out tonight?" he'd ask with exaggerated surprise every time he saw me leaving the house for my weekly game night with my buddies. "Don't go too wild. Don't want you gettin' home after eleven, do we?"

I refused to rise to it. I'd been called a nerd by asshole jocks like him all through high school, and I wasn't going to let my overgrown fratbro neighbour get to me the same way now that I was twenty-fucking-seven years old.

And then there was the constant parade of people leaving his house in the mornings, usually just as I was locking my front door to head to work, while he was seeing them off from his porch in his tiny, ridiculous robe or a pair of low-slung sweats, or sometimes just his minuscule boxer briefs. Totally unbothered that all the neighbours could see him.

Some weeks, it felt like I saw a different person coming out of Ewen's house, in last night's clothes and with fuck knots or a self-satisfied expression, every single morning. A big werewolf in a backwards cap, who Ewen tugged into a firm kiss before they high-fived in goodbye. A huge orc in leather pants who grabbed Ewen's ass in both meaty hands and yanked their crotches together as he devoured his mouth before leaving.

There'd also been the punk banshee with a mullet who'd fisted his hair tight and yanked his head back as she whispered something in his ear—something that had made a filthy grin spread over his stupid face. And the slender fae with long, pale blue hair in booty shorts and a crop top, whose ass Ewen spanked as the guy stepped outside and shot him a teasing grin.

I knew Ewen was a non-human, but I didn't know what he actually was. We ghouls were kind of insular and didn't mingle with different species as much as others did, so I had a harder time recognising those that could fly so well under the radar. Ewen just looked like a jacked-up gym-bro country boy without any of the discernible markings that some species still had in their human forms—like the fae's colourful hair, or werewolves' lupine eyes, or vampires' predatory gaits—and because we didn't exactly get along, I'd never had a chance to ask him.

And I didn't care. Whatsoever. So he wasn't human, big fucking whoop. Neither was I. Neither were the countless people he brought home to fuck.

I was pretty sure there wasn't a non-human in this whole city—besides me, obviously—who he hadn't fucked in the few short years he'd been living next door.

Not that I gave a shit who he fucked, but I wasn't particularly enthused about having to listen to it. Ewen kept his bedroom window open pretty much year-round, regardless of the weather. I'd heard things that would no doubt scar me for life.

So many things.

So many scars on my psyche.

Fucking Dan Ewen. He was such a dick.

I did my best to completely ignore him when I left my house on the first day of my new job. It was hard, because he was standing on his front porch in nothing but his boxers, with his tongue down the throat of a ridiculously hot fae woman in a slinky dress.

I ground my teeth as I locked my front door, trying not to glance over. His hands were roaming over her generous ass and thick waist, and I found myself imagining that they were my hands. I hadn't gotten laid in a while. I'd split up with my last girlfriend, Hannah, another ghoul like me, about eight months ago.

I'd never dated a fae, and the one making out with my dumbass neighbour on his porch was ludicrously attractive. I clenched my teeth together harder as I turned and stomped down the steps.

I was jealous. Of Dan fucking Ewen. And I despised it.

"Howdy, neighbour."

My shoulders hunched up at the sound of his smug voice. I kept striding toward my car, not even grunting to acknowledge him.

"Do you not get along with him?" I heard the fae woman ask in a hushed voice.

Ewen chuckled. "Nah, we get along just fine. He just has a stick up his ass."

Fuck you, Dan Ewen, I thought viciously as I unlocked my car and climbed in, dumping my bag on the passenger seat.

I couldn't let him get to me. Not this morning. I was starting my new job as IT manager at Goliaths of Wrestling, a secret wrestling organisation for non-humans operating out of the basement of an office building.

Wouldn't have been my first choice of venue, but whatever. The owner, Holt Hector, had seemed a little eccentric during my interview. After I'd shaken his hand and sat down, he'd swivelled his monitor around to show me an online store selling a bunch of ironing boards and asked, "Which of these would you say is the sexiest?"

And when he'd told me how his business currently operated—still only taking bookings by fucking phone, for god's sake—I'd been massively underwhelmed. But then he'd offered me the job, and I wanted a new job, so I took it. At least I'd be busy, because Goliaths needed dragging into the twenty-first century.

I tried not to get nervous as I made the drive to my new place of work, but the truth was, I got nervous just like everyone else. I was just good at hiding it. I was considered the ‘cool' one in my friend group, who Dan fucking Ewen would probably call a bunch of nerds. We played Humandatory together, a game where you roleplayed as humans going about their day-to-day lives.

It was fun, and I didn't give a shit if other people considered it nerdy. Life was too short to care about what other people thought.

Except I could admit, if only to myself, that it kind of bugged me that Ewen clearly thought I was a total loser. A dweeb. Only because he was such an arrogant asshole, and arrogant assholes annoyed the shit out of me. I'd dealt with enough of them in my life.

When I got to the plain, nondescript office building in an industrial area outside of town, I parked and gave myself a minute to steady my nerves. I'd be fine. It was literally impossible for me to make Goliaths worse , because they were pretty much operating like it was still the eighties.

I grabbed my bag and got out of the car, and when I entered the front lobby, I immediately spotted the guy who'd taken me downstairs for my interview. It was Hector's assistant—a tall, lanky fae called Larkin with bright pink hair.

He was in his human form like me, leaning against the wall and staring down at his phone. Hiding the nerves still churning in my gut, I shifted the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder and walked toward him.

"Oh hell yeah," I heard him mutter as I approached. "Made that lightbulb my bitch."

I cleared my throat when I stopped in front of him. His head lifted, and he blinked blue eyes at me gormlessly for a second before he straightened and pocketed his phone.

"Yo." He gave me a quick once-over. "Rafe, right?"

"Yeah."

"Shweet." He turned and pulled open the door to the back stairwell. "Congrats on joining the team, bro."

I eyed him as I followed. "Thanks."

He unlocked the door at the end of the stairwell and gestured me through, then locked it again behind us. At almost the same time, we shifted into our true forms. My skin turned its sickly grey shade, my fingernails grew dark, and my vision adjusted, everything becoming much brighter. I could see the pits and scuff marks on the bare concrete walls, pieces of tape left over from old posters.

"You'll get your own key," Larkin told me as we walked down the metal staircase, our footsteps loud and clanging. "So where'd you work before this? Human place?"

"No. Adult film site for supernaturals."

Larkin almost stumbled on the stairs as he looked over at me quickly with wide eyes. "No shit?"

"Just in the IT department."

"Yeah, but does that mean you just got to watch porn all day?"

I side-eyed him with a dry, unimpressed look. "No."

"Hey, does that mean you know Asmo? Assmo Dickus. He's Susan's boyfriend."

I side-eyed him again. I didn't even know who Susan was, let alone Assmo Dickus. "No. It wasn't a porn studio. There weren't any pornstars actually in the office."

"Oh." He pouted, then shrugged. "Well, you'll prob meet Asmo soon anyway."

I didn't particularly give a shit about meeting any pornstars, but whatever. "Okay."

We lapsed into silence as he led me down the corridor, before I sensed him glancing at me as he asked, "Nervous?"

My belly clenched, but I kept my face blank. "No."

"You're allowed to be nervous, bro," he said lightly. "I was nervous as fuck on my first day."

"I'm not nervous."

"Well that's… cool, I guess." He sounded almost personally offended by it, for some unknown reason.

Instead of taking me to Hector's office at the end of the corridor, we turned down a different one lined with doors. Larkin stopped outside of one and reached for the handle.

"So this is your new office." He stepped aside after opening the door. "The marketing manager, Taylor, is just across the hall."

I walked in and looked around. It was pretty nice, I supposed. Comfy seating in the corner, a big desk with two monitors, a glowing neon Goliaths of Wrestling sign on the wall. No windows, obviously, seeing as we were in the basement. But at least I wasn't in a bullpen with twenty other people.

Ewen would probably call me a basement dweller if he knew this was my new office.

I gritted my teeth as the thought popped into my head. I hated how often I thought about my dickhead neighbour, but he was a constant thorn in my side, despite how little we actually interacted. He just annoyed me. He was annoying.

"You don't look like a typical IT nerd."

I stiffened in offence as I looked over at Larkin, who was leaning against the doorframe and watching me. My pierced brow rose. "Not all IT guys are nerds."

I was pretty sure Ewen had no idea what I actually did for a job, otherwise he probably would've made the same joke a million times by now. Asshole.

Larkin straightened and gestured at my new office. "Like it?"

"It's fine."

When he offered to show me around, I took off my suit jacket and rolled up my sleeves, wanting to be comfortable and not look too much like the overdressed, overeager new guy. Larkin wasn't wearing a jacket and his tie was a mess, so they couldn't care that much about appearances here.

He led me across the hall to meet the marketing manager, Taylor, who I discovered was dating Hector—and was human. Which was certainly a surprise. As we were heading back toward Hector's office, a huge guy in a suit with short brown hair appeared around the corner.

Werewolf, I realised as I spotted his golden-brown lupine eyes. Then my brow rose again when Larkin bounded over to him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

Was there something in the fucking water here? Why were all the employees dating?

"Friendly office," I deadpanned, tucking my hands into my pockets as I stood there trying not to feel too awkward. "Am I expected to do that?"

Larkin whirled around and wrapped his arm around the guy's waist, narrowing his eyes at me. "No. Seb's my boyfriend. He's Holt's bodyguard."

I absorbed that bit of information with mild surprise, unable to stop myself from asking, "Holt needs a bodyguard?"

"Uh-huh." Larkin's mouth twitched. "Something to do with the mob, I think. Holt's, like, involved in some shit, dude."

I was pretty sure he was fucking with me, and I refused to react even if he wasn't. Did he really expect me to believe that Holt Hector was involved with the mob? Really? The dude who'd taken notes during my interview with a pink fluffy pen? The dude who'd accidentally hit play on the audiobook he'd been listening to when he went to show me something on his phone, so I'd been subjected to a few seconds of a vampire called Fabio railing his human pet, Steve?

After Seb the bodyguard greeted me politely and kissed Larkin again, the two of us carried on walking down the hallway, leaving the big werewolf behind.

"Any other office couples I should know about?" I asked flatly.

"Gabe and Biff have a thing," Larkin said after a pause.

"And they are…?"

"Nunhallowed Pound and Bedrock Biff Clawstin." He looked at me. "You been to watch the wrestling before?"

"Only once."

I'd come in my early twenties, at least five years ago now, with a few of my friends. None of us had overly enjoyed it—we weren't big on crowds and loud music and deafening screams. And the wrestling was fake, all scripted and planned, so what was even the point? I hadn't found it all that entertaining, to be honest.

"Well, now you can watch it every week if you want." Larkin shrugged. "Perk of the job. The atmosphere's always pretty cool in the arena."

I couldn't think of anything worse than standing in a suit in the middle of a screaming crowd, watching two people pretend to kick the shit out of each other. Unfortunately, part of my new job would be setting up a secure channel to stream the matches online so Hector could charge for pay-per-view.

I guessed there'd be a lot of good ol' wrasslin' in my future. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"I'll have to watch every show," I told Larkin, unable to put any enthusiasm in my voice. "Seeing as we'll be streaming them online. Which is my job."

He didn't answer, side-eyeing me as we walked down a corridor lined with doors that displayed the wrestlers' names. Their dressing rooms, I was guessing. I got the sense that Larkin hadn't overly warmed to me, but I was used to that. I wasn't going to pretend to be all perky and eager-to-please just because I was new. My job didn't require me to be cheerful, or even all that friendly. I was just the IT guy.

When I heard the sound of music and loud voices and clanging weights coming from beyond the double doors up ahead, my nerves returned. I flexed my fingers in my pockets, but forced myself to maintain the same casual pose. I hated having all the attention on me, but I was going to have to deal with it for the next few minutes. After that, I could retreat to my office and only come out when absolutely necessary. I didn't need to mingle with the rest of the team, especially not the wrestlers. I was just the guy in the background, with the job that meant if I was doing it right, no one would ever have a reason to bother me. Except I already kind of got the sense that Hector was the type to call me from his office and tell me his PC wasn't working when he'd just accidentally muted the sound. Or insist that he'd been locked out of his emails, when he was really just typing his password in wrong.

There was at least one in every single company in existence.

Larkin shoved open one of the doors and sauntered through. I made sure my face was blank as I followed him and tried to take in the cavernous room as casually as possible. It smelled faintly of clean sweat, disinfectant, and the cloyingly sweet scent of protein powder that got into the back of your throat.

The kitchen area was littered with empty beakers and giant bags of protein powder. The huge sectional couch in front of a wall-mounted flatscreen TV had several people lounging on it. I spotted another ghoul, this one dressed only in a towel, as well as a banshee, a vampire and a faun, all with controllers in their hands and their eyes fixed on the TV.

A huge cyclops was perched on the end, wearing a monocle over his one enormous eye as he knitted. A gorgon was leaning against the counters, eating tuna tartare and feeding bits to the snakes that made up her hair.

In the big training ring dominating the centre of the room, a gargoyle and an incubus were practising moves. Well, kind of. Looked more like foreplay as they grunted around salacious grins and writhed together on the mat.

At the far end with all the gym equipment, there was a tall fae with long, shimmering gold hair tied back into a ponytail running on a treadmill. A redheaded Valkyrie in a sports bra and shorts was spotting someone on the bench, and my gaze lingered on her appreciatively for a few seconds before I glanced at the person she was spotting—someone doing chest presses with a scary amount of weight loaded onto the barbell.

My brows twitched up when I realised their head was missing. Dullahans were pretty rare, and I'd never actually met one before, but for some reason, it felt like I… recognised this one. Even though I couldn't even see their face.

Where would I have seen a half-naked dude in a pair of tiny shorts before? I didn't go to the gym. We weren't anywhere near a beach. But something about that muscular chest with its smattering of dark blond hair was weirdly familiar.

Whoever they were lifted the barbell in a final rep, their biceps bulging and straining. A grunt came from somewhere below the bench, by the Valkyrie's feet. She racked up the barbell for them, then stepped back and crouched to grab something off the ground as the headless body sat up, sweat glistening on their tanned skin.

And then I saw the long, dirty blond hair as the Valkyrie passed a severed head to the body. The cocky grin. The blue eyes.

The face that filled me with fucking rage.

He grabbed his head and rested it between his thighs as he swiped a towel over his chest. His eyes swept over the room. They locked with mine. And that infuriating grin made an appearance, slowly spreading his wide mouth.

My goddamn asshole neighbour.

Dan fucking Ewen.