Fight Song

By Susan Harris

*Completed Series*

This isn’t about guts or glory; it’s survival of the fittest.

For the past year, Ryan Callan has opened her heart and allowed herself to care for others, only to have her worst fears come to life. Now, stuck in a position she never wanted, Ryan will need to summon every ounce of strength to face an epic fight for the crown, while battling her own personal demons.

Ryan has given everything for the crown; all her blood, sweat and tears, taking her to the edge of insanity and back again. Can she risk losing yet another part of herself to save those she has come to care for, or is this one fight that Ryan might not survive?

The stakes have never been higher...the battle for the Sanguine Crown is far from over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CTP Publishing
• Release date: Jan 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781634224840

Susan Harris

Susan Harris is a writer from Cork in Ireland. An avid reader, she quickly grew to love books in the supernatural/fantasy genre. When she is not writing or reading, she loves music, oriental cultures, tattoos, anything Disney and psychology. If she wasn't a writer she would love to be a FBI profiler or a PA for Dave Grohl or Jared Leto.Susan Harris is the author of Shattered Memories.

Book preview

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Nicky!

Ryan’s voice cried out, and I could almost hear her heart breaking in unison with the chains and supports holding up the bridge as they snapped. I had the barest of moments to drink her in, see the terror in her eyes as Maxim pressed the detonator again, rocking the foundations we stood on as Ryan and Jack were thrown backward, dragging her lavender eyes from mine.

The bridge cracked apart, leaving me spiraling toward the rough current at a tremendous speed.

Hitting the water felt like being hit by a truck, yanking the air from my lungs, the coldness a shock to my system even as I tried to gain control over my body but failed, the water relentless as it tried to claim me. I was swept away, my head underwater, as my lungs burned and I hit my body hard off of rocks within the riverbed.

As suddenly as I had hit the water, I emerged, gasping in air, and tried to blink the blurriness from my eyes. In the distance, I saw the remnants of the burning bridge, heard the wail of sirens. My muscles ached as I tried to move my arms like I saw people who knew how to swim do.

It was useless as the water turned me around in circles, and I had a minute to suck in another breath before debris from the bridge struck me on the head and the murky waters engulfed me once more.

Then suddenly I was lying in bed, Ryan beside me, her body angled toward mine, her ice-blond hair covering her face as she slept. Her hand was resting upon my chest, her face relaxed, serene even, and I just lay there, looking at her, memorizing her so I could never forget.

I had loved her since I knew what real love was and maybe even before that. This fierce woman who was soft only with those who she loved, and when Ryan Callan loved you, she loved with her heart and soul. She spoke only the truth, never mincing her words, and every time she told me she loved me, my heart felt like it would burst from my chest.

I wanted to stay here, in our bed, with her beside me, but something clawed at me …

This isn’t real … Nickolai, you’re drowning.

It was her voice that saved me, her voice that pried my eyes open just with enough time to angle my body so that a jagged piece of wood went through my shoulder instead of my heart, my head bashing off a rock, my stomach rolling.

By Eve, I wasn’t going to make it … I was going to die.

Consciousness slipped from me, and I almost thought I imagined the way someone wrapped an arm around my neck and dragged me from the water. Suddenly I wasn’t submerged in the water but staring up at the night sky as Adam knelt beside me, pulling me onto my side. I coughed up water, darkness clouding my vision before I succumbed to it.

Bitch, please, was that supposed to hurt?

The Asian vampire’s gaze narrowed, unsure of what to make of me as I grinned through bloodstained teeth. He glanced over at the vampire who was a de facto leader of the Asian vampires, as if wondering if he should proceed.

He was smaller than me in height, had less muscle even, yet the fucker was fast and had tried to tire me out before he struck. It had taken him twenty minutes before he landed a blow to my face, the court gasping as I staggered back, even more so when I grinned and laughed.

The vampire, whose name I had already forgotten, grabbed his nunchucks from the mat and did an elaborate twist and twirl of his body like you would see in a martial arts movie. Rolling my eyes, feeling exhausted and bored, my muscles aching but not from the fighting, I was shattered in more ways than one.

Nickolai had died not a mere seven nights ago, and this was already my fifth challenge to the throne. I barely slept, I didn’t eat, and the only thing I consumed was a copious amount of alcohol. I was fighting to keep a crown I didn’t want.

My opponent had taken one look at my sunken eyes, my pale skin and the way my hand had trembled when I lifted my sword, mistaking that for a weakness, and maybe it was, yet every time I lifted up the sword that used to be Nickolai’s, my fingers shook.

Without a conscious thought, my hand grazed the ring that rested against my breastbone as the Chinese vampire lashed out with his nunchucks. Frustration burned in me, this anger in my chest as I heard Nickolai’s voice in my head, and I snarled.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I lost control of the rage inside me and snapped out my hand at the weapon coming toward me. I caught the opposite end of his nunchucks and yanked forward until the other vampire was within striking distance and he was forced to relinquish his weapon. With his weapon in my hand, I punched him square in the jaw with enough force that he staggered backwards and tripped, landing on his back.

There were rules to each fight. I had barely listened to anything Atticus and Jack had explained to me before the first challenger had presented themselves at court to try and take the crown. One of the most crucial ones was that there were no fights to the death unless it was agreed by both parties beforehand.

So far, all my opponents had not wanted to kill a female vampire.

But as my rage clouded my common sense, my eyes rising to see my rogue self leaning in the doorway, her own bloodstained smile a mirror image of my own, I loosened the reins on my control.

Dropping down so that I straddled his chest, I unleashed my fists on his face, felt the pain in my hands, and I must have broken a knuckle or two again. Yet I was relentless, blood flying as the vampire tapped the mat, submitting to my victory. That didn’t stop me though.

Strong arms grabbed me around the waist and hauled me back. My fist swung up and connected with Edison’s jaw as my friend let me go, and I coiled my arm to strike out again when Jack stepped into my field of vision and grabbed my wrists.

Enough, my Liege.

I snarled at him as I wrenched my hands free. You don’t get to tell me what to do since you fucking abandoned me when I needed you the most.

Jack paled at the reference to the distance my uncle had put between us days after we had lost Nickolai. I knew he was grieving, probably just as hard as I was, but he had totally shut me out, shut Atticus out too, and now, instead of standing beside me, he usually stayed locked inside his room.

I didn’t have the luxury to wallow.

I was trying to save a crown I didn’t want.

With every single punch I threw to keep the crown on my head, the words stuck in my throat, the ones Katerina had told me about, the ones that I burned to say and be done with this farce.

I relinquish my claim to the Sanguine Crown.

They lodged in my throat now, and I spun on my heels, the entire room standing as their queen, me, wiped the blood from my face and kicked up my sword, Nickolai’s sword, caught it, and strode from the training center. The moment the doors swung closed behind me felt like a gulp of air. I kept moving, my feet leading me as I longed to scream out. All I wanted to do was run away and never come back.

I heard footsteps behind me, my anger building at the fact that they would not give me a moment of respite to myself. I stormed down the hall, right into the royal quarters, and was just about to slam the door to Nickolai’s room closed when a boot blocked my way.

By Eve, Ryan. Just wait a minute.

Atticus’s handsome face looked as tired as I felt. I could feel how torn he was considering whatever had happened to make Jack turn his back on me was affecting Atticus as well, for it involved him in whatever the hell was going on with me and Jack.

Leave me alone, Atticus. That’s an order.

A muscle ticked in his jaw as Atticus fought not to follow my order, knowing full well that I only half meant it. He removed his boot, and I slammed the door shut, leaning against it, my heart lurching at the devastation that lay before me.

The night we had lost Nickolai, I had unleashed my rage on this room, and as a reminder of how I felt, how damaged and broken I felt, I refused to let anyone clean it. I listened as Atticus made a point of settling in outside the door, for I was not a true queen in any of their eyes. I was a fake, a fraud, a flight risk.

I was a prisoner, trapped within a web of lies.

Oh, you are no prisoner, my love. You are a warrior queen, and those who do not see it, you should make them bleed.

I slid down to the ground, my gaze landing on rogue Nickolai, who watched me with amusement. I let my head fall to my knees, blocking out his voice, his laughter at my distress. Nickolai had chased away the darkest of my demons, the ones that haunted me since Dresden, Maxim Smyrnoi’s fae, tortured me. Now they were back in full force, and when I was too exhausted to stay awake, nightmares plagued me.

I couldn’t even let myself bathe in the glory that Maxim was dead too. I had wanted to be the one to end his life. I had wanted to kill him and make him suffer.

My phone rang, and I glanced down to see Darragh’s name on the ID. Silencing it, I let out a breath as boots filled my field of vision and I heard Krista sigh.

Well, you look like hell.

I snorted as I lifted my head. I can’t deal with another lecture now, Krista, and I don’t need a babysitter. I just want to be left alone.

I didn’t wait for her to respond as I lurched off the ground, ignoring the dizziness as I stalked toward the bathroom, ignoring Krista, who was a massive pain despite being a ghost, as she said my name and I closed the door behind me. Switching on the shower, I then sat on the toilet seat until silence filled the bedroom.

Knowing that it wouldn’t be long before someone else came to check on me, I got to my feet and went to the sink. I rinsed the blood from my mouth, switched off the shower and opened the door a crack and peered out before making my move back to the room, just in case Krista had stayed, but thankfully only the mess awaited me.

I stripped off my long-sleeved tee and pulled on a clean one that was Nickolai’s and one of my black hoodies, but not before I slipped on my sai sheath. I strode to the door and leaned against it, listening to Atticus tap his feet on the ground.

Shaking my head, I crossed the room, traipsing through the debris until I came to the bay window. I tried the lock, surprised when it opened despite threats to glue the thing shut if I continued to sneak out every night. Glancing down at the ground, I watched as the guard, like clockwork, walked round the corner and out of view.

I shoved the window open wide, swung my legs over and took off between one breath and the next, my feet barely making a sound as I raced across the gravel, then the grass, and finally into the trees that surrounded the compound. My arms pumped and my lungs burned, yet it was the freest I had felt in ages.

Running and running until I burst out of the forest at the other end, jumping up and leaping over the wall, I grunted as my feet hit the concrete, and then I simply strode along Cork City’s streets, one with the night.

Pulling my hood up to shield myself from anyone who might see me as just a young teen walking at night when she should be tucked up in bed, I shoved my hands into my pockets, put my headphones on and kept moving. The city was almost still, taxis and an ambulance the only traffic on the road. I relished the silence, even if my mind was still working overtime.

I wasn’t really sure why I still came here, why I still had this spark of hope that I would round a corner and see him waiting for me, that smug grin on his face, his arms open and everything would be okay.

But deep down I knew that nothing would ever be okay again.

I heard the rush of water, the sound of it a beautiful torment as I came to a halt, my eyes glancing down the river to the shattered ruins of the Shakey Bridge. The news had reported that it was a freak unexplained accident and that Cork City Council were working to secure funds to restore it.

I didn’t care if it was ever restored because I needed to see it to remember that it had happened, that this whole fucked-up situation was not just one of Dresden’s dreamscapes I was stuck in.

My hands on the wall, I eased myself up and swung my legs over until I sat with my legs dangling over the edge. I felt the familiar scratch of the cement on my palms as I leaned forward, looking down into the depths of the water, and begged Eve to bring him back to me.

Jack had been the first person to find me here, the first night after my coronation as queen, where he thought I was going to dive into the waters like I wanted to and had tackled me to the ground, yelling at me for being selfish, that they had already lost so much and now I was willing to have them lose me too.

Then he ghosted me.

I wasn’t sure what I had done, why when I went to him and asked for him to stand beside me when I faced my first challenger, he point-blank refused. I’d been so blindsided that I hadn’t uttered a syllable as Jack had closed the door in my face. I felt abandoned and had almost lost my first fight because I was so distracted.

And still the question that repeated in my head was why was I fighting so hard to keep a crown I had never wanted?

I knew the answer, of course. It was what Nickolai would have wanted.

Why do you care what he wanted? He left you all alone.

Swinging my legs so that they banged against the wall, I let loose a frustrated growl, knowing I should be trying to sleep now, with another challenge sure to come sooner rather than later.

Katerina had explained that there was a period of time when a new monarch could be challenged for the crown, yet it had not been invoked in centuries. Most accepted a blood heir taking the throne without question, but I wasn’t royal, nor was I who the vampires of Europe and more wanted as their queen.

Thirty days of challenges and if I survived, then my reign was true. If this had happened when Katerina had taken the throne, she surely would have died because she was not like me. She could not have faced down trained soldiers and kept her grip on the crown. Even I had struggled with the lack of sleep, the rage, the grief that was a lethal cocktail inside me.

I had to accept any challenge, at any given time, and if I refused, the crown was forfeit and it would all be over, and the stubborn part of me refused to lose that way.

My third challenge had been brutal. I’d dislocated my shoulder but had kicked the vampire from Sweden so hard in the balls, after that, he couldn’t stand. I was challenged again five minutes after I won.

Atticus and Katerina had argued that any challenger who won while I was injured would not be accepted by the council, as Edison forced me to drink blood and then made me lie down as he popped my shoulder back into place. They let me rest for an hour before deeming me suitably healed and ready to face another challenge.

I was utterly exhausted and not sure I would survive the next three weeks of challenges. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to.

Footsteps sounded behind me, and I knew who it was before they eased themselves up to sit beside me. Edison bumped me with his shoulder, then just sat beside me, giving me time to gather my thoughts before I spoke.

I’m sorry I decked you, I said as I pulled out my headphones.

Edison chuckled. No, you’re not. But it’s grand.

Rolling my eyes, I cast my attention back to the swirling tide.

You gotta stop coming here, Ryan. It’s not helping you to come to terms with things.

You started taking lessons from Reece? I snapped, my grip on the ledge tightening until I scented blood. Reece had been my vampire counsellor after what happened to me with Dresden and had been trying to get me to talk since the events on the bridge, but I had made it my new life’s mission to avoid him.

Callan, come on. Everyone’s just trying to help you. You can’t shut people out.

I raised my brows as if to say, can’t I? "I can if I want to. You all concocted this plan, and while I have to pretend in public, I’m not going to just sit back and let you all dictate to me about how I should act, how I should feel."

I’ve never asked you to do that. We survived hell together, Ryan. I want to help you through this.

I couldn’t tell him that I wanted him to help me through it too but felt like I couldn’t go to him now that he was trying with Krista. I had the first night gone to his room, wanting to feel safe, wanting to feel something other than the crippling weight, but when I had opened his bedroom door, Edison was asleep, curled up with Krista.

I glanced down at the water as I remembered the surge of jealousy that had flooded my veins. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t jealous of them being together; I was jealous that they had what I wanted. That the man I loved was gone and I was alone again.

I had stopped going to Edison then because I couldn’t stand to be bitter that he was happy with Krista.

I sucked as a friend.

I heard Edison’s phone vibrate, then glared at him. How can I expect you to play the role of friend when I feel like you are my jailer? Everywhere I look, one of you is there. I did what you all wanted. I fucking gave up everything when you asked me to. If I want to try and come to terms with the fact that my soul mate is gone, that my uncle blames me for it, that I am what Nickolai always wanted and I’m still alone, in my own way, let me. I’m not queen; I’m a fucking prisoner on death row.

Ryan … Edison started to say, but I was already getting off the wall and walking away with Edison scrambling after me.

I strode to the end of the road where the BMW waited, Farrah leaning against the door as I stalked forward, her face frozen as I smirked. Oh, look, it’s jailer number two.

Farrah blanched as I yanked open the back door and slid inside, kicking the seat like a petulant child, but I didn’t care. This was my party, and I would raise hell if I wanted to.

Farrah closed the door behind me, not joining me in my pity party for one in the back seat. She sat up front with Edison, typing a message on her phone to alert the guard that I had been located.

I’m surprised you don’t put a fucking tracker in me like a dog to make finding me easier.

The venom in my tone hit hard, and I saw the shock in Edison’s eyes as he glanced in the mirror at me and Farrah sucked in a breath. I leaned my head against the seat, closing my eyes, and my breathing fell into a steady pattern so they would think I was asleep and let me be.

She’s hurting so much, Farrah muttered under her breath, the empathy in her tone stinging like she’d smacked me.

I heard Edison sigh. She is one of the toughest people I know. But she can use words to hurt as much as she can with any weapon. She has lost so much that I’m afraid this is too much for her to take. She doesn’t mean a lot of what she says, Farrah. Try not to take it to heart. It’s the only weapon she can wield against us.

Grinding my teeth together, I drowned out what Edison was saying,