Page 26 of Princess Redeemed

Mom was home with a newborn Larissa, and Dad took me to an afternoon cartoon to get us out of the way.

“Root beer,” I say.

“What?”

“I want a root beer, Daddy.First I need you to take me to the hospital, but then I want you to get me a root beer.”

“For the love of God…”

“Don’t you remember?That time when Larissa was a baby, and you took me to a matinee and then we stopped for a root beer?”

His gaze softens.

Good.Maybe now he’ll do as I ask.

The one thing that’s different about my father and stepfather—other than I have the former’s genes—is the few good memories I have regarding my father.I have no good memories of my stepfather.Not a single one.

My father lets out a sigh.Will he acquiesce?Or do I need to call a damned ambulance?

“Hannah…”

“This isn’t just my child, Daddy.”I clutch my abdomen.“It’s your grandchild.Have you forgotten?It may be the next vampire monarch.”

“Do you really think our people will accept a monarch that’s only a quarter vampire?This child is more lycan than anything else.”

“They’ve accepted me.”

“Yes, but you’re half vampire, and you’re from a legitimate union.Your child will be a bastard.”

“So what?He or she is still my child.Heir to your throne, Daddy.Please.”

He sighs again, and in his eyes I see that he’s relenting.Thank God.While the pain isn’t as sharp, it’s still beating down inside me.

I haven’t seen my child yet.Haven’t had an ultrasound.Haven’t heard a heartbeat.

Please, I beg silently.Please let there be a heartbeat.

“My car isn’t here,” my father says.“We’ll have to get a cab.”

“Damn…” I clutch my belly and stand tall.Pain shoots through me.I grit my teeth.“I have to get there.Now.”

“All right.”Dad scoops me into his arms and carries me out of my bedroom and then out of the apartment.“Close your eyes, Hannah.”

I obey.

Vampires—full-blooded vampires—can move quickly, sometimes so quickly they’re unseen by human eyes.As a half vamp, I’m quick, but not lightning fast like a full-blood.

A few moments later, we’re entering the emergency room, my father still carrying me.He walks briskly to the reception area.

“I believe my daughter may be having a miscarriage.We need to see someone immediately.”

“Yes, sir.Of course.”She gestures to an orderly who brings a wheelchair.“We’ll get her right back.In the meantime, I need you to fill out her paperwork.”

“She works here.You should have all her information.Hannah Bates.”

“Hannah Bates?”

“You probably don’t know her.She works nights.”