Page 1 of Bounty Hunter’s Match (Vinduthi Captured Mates #6)

CAMDEN

“ F lare stabilizers failing in three... two...” MIRA’s crystalline form flashed urgent patterns across my office walls.

“Not helping!” I lunged between my newest clients, somehow managing to look graceful despite my very ungraceful dive. The Merrith engineer’s implants were already sparking, his delicate hands twitching in what I recognized as embarrassment. Across from him, the gorgeous Renthian’s natural electromagnetic field was practically visible - a sure sign of attraction that was about to fry several million credits worth of cybernetics.

“Risa!” I called out, not bothering to look up. “Stop recording and get me the damping field!”

One of the tiny Nazok twins detached herself from her perch near the ceiling - how she’d wedged herself into that corner, I’ll never know. Her silvery-blue fur was practically bristling with excitement as she scampered down the wall. “But , the viewer counts are-”

“Now!”

“Got it!” Her sister Rina was already there, barely reaching my waist but moving with that characteristic Nazok speed. The damping field hummed to life just as the Renthian’s field peaked.

“There,” I smiled at both clients, straightening my jacket. “Much better. Now, shall we discuss compatible dating locations? I know a lovely spot in hydroponics with built-in electromagnetic shielding...”

“Incoming,” MIRA chimed, her crystals shifting to warning red. “Sarith Vask requests an immediate audience. Again.”

I bit back a groan. The so-called ‘Merchant Prince’ had been trying to force a meeting for weeks, ever since I’d politely declined to take him on as a client. His elaborate plumage - currently a stunning display of aggressive crimsons and golds - was visible through my office windows, drawing appreciative looks from passersby.

“Your three o’clock is arriving early,” Rina announced, her pointed ears twitching as she accessed her data feeds. “And your two o’clock is still stuck in customs because someone,” she shot a look at her sister, “forgot to file their species-compatibility forms.”

“I was getting better footage of the Mondian-Sylphid mixer!” Risa protested, already back in her ceiling corner. “Did you see when they tried to share a drink sphere? The Sylphid kept phase-shifting at the wrong moments and the Mondian nearly-”

“Ladies,” I interrupted. “Focus. MIRA, please escort our lovely couple to the environmental planning office. Zyx will help them work out the technical details.” I turned to my clients with my most reassuring smile. “True love is worth a few engineering challenges, don’t you think?”

The Renthian’s silvery skin rippled with pleased bioluminescence, and even the Merrith’s fine features relaxed into what I recognized as a smile. As MIRA guided them out through the side door, I caught fragments of their conversation about modifying sensory dampeners for dates.

“Another successful match!” Risa cheered from above.

“Not yet,” Rina corrected, her small form somehow managing to look serious despite her inherently adorable species characteristics. “But the compatibility indicators are at 87% and rising.”

“Speaking of rising,” MIRA’s crystals pulsed, “Sarith Vask’s blood pressure is-”

The main door swished open, revealing the Merchant Prince in all his glory. His plumage literally brushed the top of the doorframe, and his entourage of various species arranged themselves behind him in what was clearly a practiced display of power.

I straightened my spine, channeling every lesson I’d learned surviving the station’s lower levels. I might be human, but I’d built this business from nothing, and no amount of pretty feathers was going to intimidate me.

“Sarith Vask.” I kept my voice professionally pleasant as the merchant prince swept into my office, his feathers catching the light in precisely calculated displays of wealth and status. “I believe my staff already explained-”

“Your upcoming Valentine’s Gala - the first of its kind in this sector - requires certain... arrangements...” His head tilted at the exact angle to maximize the iridescent flash of his crest. “I’ve brought references from three planetary governors and documentation of my holdings in-”

“Mr. Vask.” I pulled up his file - extensive, annotated, and marked with more red flags than a shipping hazard warning. “Perfect Match’s success is built on genuine compatibility. Our screening process shows you’re looking for a strategic alliance, not a relationship. Until that changes, we wouldn’t be able to provide the results you deserve.”

His feathers bristled. “You dare suggest I’m not good enough for your little dating service? Do you know who I am?”

“Precisely who you are, Mr. Vask. Including the six lawsuits against previous matchmakers, all sealed by rather generous settlements.” I kept my tone professional despite his rising volume. “And the rather interesting pattern of your relationships ending exactly when their business value expires.”

“Those incompetents couldn’t provide what I required-”

“Which was?”

“Someone worthy of my position!” His crest fully extended now, a dominance display that might have been more impressive if I hadn’t seen the nervous flutter in his secondary feathers. “I have standards-”

“As do we.” I stood. “When you’re ready to look for a real connection, Mr. Vask, we’ll be happy to help you find one. Until then, I’m afraid we’ll have to decline.”

“This is because of what happened with Matchmaker Pel, isn’t it?” His voice took on a dangerous edge. “That unfortunate incident could repeat itself, you know. Accidents happen, especially in stations with such... complex atmospheric systems.”

I kept my expression neutral even as I tagged that threat for security follow-up. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Vask?”

“Threatening? No, no.” His tone shifted to something artificially smooth. “Simply expressing concern for station safety. It would be terrible if something went wrong at your Valentine’s Gala. Such a prestigious event, so many important guests...”

“I believe we’re done here.” I gestured to the door. “Please leave.”

Above his head, I caught Risa starting another recording. Her sister was already messaging someone - probably adding to their extensive network of gossip and information. Good. The twins’ stream would ensure everyone knew exactly who was being unreasonable.

And if his plumage happened to look particularly pompous from their ceiling-height angle? Well, that was just good cinematography.

The twins’ feed caught the exact moment he tried to turn dramatically and got his elaborate head feathers caught in my office door. It took three of his assistants to untangle him.

I sagged against my desk as Sarith Vask cleared the door, professional smile dropping. “MIRA, how bad?”

“Stream numbers are excellent,” MIRA’s crystals formed a rising graph. “The twins’ footage is trending across three sectors. Particularly the moment his plumage got stuck in the door seal.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Your rejection of his... proposal... has been viewed by approximately sixty-eight percent of the station’s upper society,” MIRA’s tone grew careful. “Including several prominent merchant houses.”

“Perfect.” I rubbed my temples. “Just perfect.”

“Actually,” Risa’s voice echoed faintly from above, “it really is! We’re getting comms from at least twelve other houses who’ve wanted to see someone stand up to-”

A muffled thump and whispered argument suggested Rina had found her sister’s hiding spot.

“?” MIRA’s crystals shifted to a gentle blue. “Captain Larthul is requesting immediate access. She seems... concerned.”

“About Vask?”

“About, and I quote, ‘reports of ritualistic organ harvesting planned for the Valentine’s Gala.’“

I blinked. “What?”

The door slid open to reveal Larthul’s imposing Mondian frame, her massive form ducking to enter. The station’s head of security was clutching a datapad covered in what appeared to be anatomical diagrams of various species’ hearts.

“Bishop,” she nodded gravely. “We need to discuss these Earth customs you’re introducing to the station. Specifically, this ‘giving of hearts’ tradition.”

From somewhere above us came poorly suppressed giggles.

“The cultural affairs office is receiving concerned inquiries,” Larthul continued, shooting a look at the ceiling. “Apparently, there are rumors that accepting a ‘Valentine’ requires a binding blood oath and the exchange of vital organs?”

“That’s not-” I started.

“While several Vinduthi houses have expressed interest,” she talked over me, “the Merchant’s Coalition is demanding safety guarantees. And the Sylphid delegation is asking if synthetic organs are acceptable substitutes given their... ethereal nature.”

The twins lost their battle with composure. Risa tumbled from her hiding spot, caught herself mid-air in a graceful flip, and landed next to her sister who had apparently emerged specifically to double over laughing.

“We may have posted some historical research,” Rina managed between giggles. “About ancient Earth fertility rites and symbolic sacrifices...”

“And candy hearts!” Risa added. “Though nobody believes humans actually ate hearts made of pure sugar. We tried to explain-”

“Bishop.” Larthul’s expression was a masterpiece of professional concern. “Your Gala guest list includes three planetary governors, a Fanaith trade delegation, and half the sector’s merchant houses. I need to know exactly how many medical teams to have on standby for this ritual.”

I caught MIRA’s crystals forming the distinct pattern that meant she was trying not to laugh. Somehow, I kept my face straight.

“Captain,” I said carefully, “Let’s have a conversation about metaphors, paper hearts, and why humans should never be allowed to name their holidays...”

“So no actual hearts will be exchanged?” Larthul confirmed, updating her notes.

“Just paper ones. And maybe some chocolates, assuming we can find any that are universally non-toxic.” I paused. “Though given the twins’ research methods, maybe we should specify ‘no actual organs’ in the invitation...”

“Already added it to the safety protocols!” Risa chirped.

“While we’re on the subject of safety,” Larthul’s tone shifted to something more serious, “we need to discuss security arrangements.”

I blinked. “For paper hearts?”

“For you.” She held up her datapad, showing a complex series of statistics and threat assessments. “Your client list now includes some of the most influential beings in the sector. The Gala alone represents billions in potential trade agreements, political alliances...”

“And romance!” Risa interjected.

“That too.” Larthul’s expression softened slightly. “The twins’ social media presence isn’t helping. That video of Vask is already causing waves.”

“He got himself stuck in the door,” I protested. “We just... documented it.”

“From six different angles,” Rina added proudly. “With slow motion replay.”

“Exactly.” Larthul nodded. “And while Vask isn’t a serious threat, his pride is wounded. More importantly, your success is drawing attention. Not all of it welcome.”

I wanted to argue, but she had a point. Perfect Match had grown far beyond my original dreams of a small matchmaking service.

What started as matching lonely space dock workers on the Helios Anchor station had evolved once word spread about my knack for cross-species compatibility. These days, even the elite appreciated someone who could see past status to what really mattered. “Fine,” I sighed. “What kind of security are we talking about?”

“I’m assigning you one of my best.” Larthul’s sharp teeth gleamed in what I recognized as satisfaction. “Barek.” The twins exchanged a look that made me instantly suspicious.

“Barek?” The name meant nothing to me, but the twins were already accessing their data feeds.

“Oh!” Risa’s fur rippled with excitement. “The bounty hunter? The one who broke up that massive smuggling ring in the Vega system?”

“Three systems,” Rina corrected, her ears twitching as she processed information. “Though officially, most of his work is classified.”

“He needs a change of pace,” Larthul said firmly. “And you need someone who can handle... unusual situations.”

As if on cue, we heard a crash from the waiting room, followed by what sounded like a Merrith love song being played on crystal wine glasses. “Point taken,” I conceded. “When does he start?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Larthul’s expression might have been amused, but it was always hard to tell with Mondians. “Try not to traumatize him too badly. He’s still not used to... civilians.”

After she left, I turned to the twins. “Alright, what did your ‘research’ turn up?”

Their innocent expressions fooled exactly no one.

“Just that he’s one of the most dangerous Vinduthi warriors in three sectors,” Risa practically bounced. “And according to our sources-”

“Which may or may not have sliced several sealed security files,” Rina muttered.

“-he’s gorgeous. In a terrifying, could-probably-kill-you-with-his-pinky kind of way.”

“And he owes Larthul a favor,” Rina added thoughtfully. “A big one, apparently.”

“No,” I said firmly, recognizing their matching grins. “Absolutely not. Whatever you’re thinking-”

“We’re not thinking anything!” they chorused, with expressions that suggested they were thinking everything.

MIRA’s crystals formed a distinct heart shape.

Traitor.