A/N: This was my first "vampwich." If you have a problem with a little E/S/B, stop reading now. This assumes you've read all the books, so spoilers through book 8.
I decided that Felipe de Castro, the king of Nevada, Louisiana and, by default, Arkansas, was either completely clueless or, had the most perverse sense of humor on the planet. Since I assume one does not become such a powerful figure in the world of vampire politics by being clueless, I had to settle on the perverse humor.
We were attending another summit. There was unfinished business after the disaster in Rhodes, not to mention the need to officially recognize de Castro as the new king. This summit, however, was a completely different affair. It was smaller, with fewer events and, no sales booths. It was more like a corporate business retreat. Security was unbelievable and, of course, as king, de Castro expected his resident telepath to come along for the ride. Additionally, since I had accepted the king's formal offer of protection, I had to have my own bodyguards, particularly since I did not "belong" to anyone at the time. Of course, de Castro had exclaimed, there couldn't be better bodyguards than Eric Northman and Bill Compton and, wouldn't I just be more comfortable with vampires I already knew?
But that's not the perverse part. No. The perverse part is that Bill, Eric and I are sharing a room. Of course I called to the front desk immediately asking for two rooms, adjoining rooms even, but because of the summit, the hotel was booked solid. In fairness, it was a two room suite, but still this was, at best, awkward. At worst, it was a disaster waiting to happen.
After I put the phone down, I turned to look at the two of them. Eric sat sprawled in an easy chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He had a bottle of True Blood in his hands and tipped it back to his mouth with an easy grace. I felt my breath hitch ever so slightly at his beauty. Eric was the picture of calm and casual. Only problem was, I knew he wasn't. I could feel, courtesy of the blood bond, his frustration and slowly simmering anger.
Bill was standing by the balcony. He too had a bottle of True Blood, but he was gripping it tightly and had not taken a sip. His other hand clenched and unclenched. He looked me right in the eyes, then turned to face the view. Despite the fact that he had lied to me at the start of our relationship, the truth is that Bill has a tendency to wear his heart (such as it is) on his sleeve. He was not taking this well at all. I was so irritated by all of it that I just went to my room, shut the door and went to bed early.