Page 2 of Bounty Hunter’s Match (Vinduthi Captured Mates #6)
BAREK
“ Y ou’re enjoying this far too much.” I kept my voice neutral as I faced Larthul across her desk, my fingers drumming against my armor. Three standard months. Three months of playing security guard because I’d been foolish enough to bet against a Mondian’s ability to crack the Paradise Station smuggling ring.
“Me?” Larthul’s scaled form shifted as her claws clicked in what I knew damn well was smugness. “I’m simply making efficient use of available resources. One of our most valuable civilian assets needs protection, and I have a highly qualified bounty hunter who owes me... how long was it again?”
“Three standard months,” I growled, my red eyes narrowing. “I’ve put up with two already. And then I’m back to actual challenges. Not babysitting a matchmaker.”
“A human who can convince a Renthian and a cybernetically enhanced Merrith that they’re compatible.” She pulled up a holofile, her golden-capped horns catching the light. “Who has half the Merchant’s Coalition practically begging for her services, and who just very publicly refused Sarith Vask as a client.”
That caught my attention. I’d tracked Vask through three systems last year before losing him at the Vinduthi border. His ego was as overdeveloped as his plumage, and his business practices made even other merchants uncomfortable.
“The Valentine’s Gala-”
“The what?”
“Human celebration. Apparently not actually involving organ harvesting, despite recent rumors.” Larthul’s amusement was clear in her reptilian features. “The Gala will have more political and economic influence in one room than the last three trade summits combined. All arranged under the guise of ‘romance.’”
She made the human word sound like a particularly puzzling security threat.
“Perfect opportunity for any number of interesting incidents,” she added casually. “The kind that might make your last month here less... boring for you.”
My jaw twitched with irritation. She knew me too well.
“And of course,” she continued, “there’s the matter of our bet’s terms. ‘Full participation’ in station activities, I believe was the phrase?”
I decided that didn’t require an answer.
“Report to Perfect Match at 0800 tomorrow.” Her forked tongue flicked briefly. “And try not to terrify the civilians. Especially the Nazok twins - they’re apparently social media influencers now.”
Which is how I found myself standing outside an office that looked more like a luxury lounge than a business, watching two tiny Nazoks - barely reaching my chest - attempting to juggle what appeared to be heart-shaped confetti while suspended from the ceiling.
“Look, Rina! Our new security detail has arrived!” One of the twins - impossible to tell which - executed a perfect flip from her ceiling perch, landing with characteristic Nazok grace. Her silvery-blue hair settled in an artfully tousled style that had to be practiced.
The other twin dropped down beside her, their matching outfits creating a mirror image. “Ooh, Captain Larthul really sent us a Vinduthi warrior! The followers are going to love this.”
“No recordings,” I said firmly, my horns catching the light as I ducked through the doorway. At my full seven feet, most station architecture felt cramped.
“But-”
“Security protocols are not entertainment.”
“Everything’s entertainment with the right angle!” The first twin - Risa, I decided, based on the intelligence briefing’s note about her being the more outgoing one - produced a data crystal from somewhere. “And our followers have been desperate for new content since the Vask incident.”
I knew about that incident. The merchant’s humiliation had gone viral across three sectors. “That recording was a security breach.”
“That recording was art,” Rina corrected, her pointed ears twitching with amusement. “And it’s gotten us unprecedented access to-”
She stopped abruptly, attention shifting to something behind me. Both twins broke into identical grins that made my combat instincts twitch.
“Camden!” they chorused. “Your new security detail is here!”
I turned, professional assessment already in progress. Human female, mid-thirties, auburn hair, green eyes - matched the file image. But the file hadn’t captured the way she carried herself, the lushness of her curves, the subtle confidence of someone used to reading others before they could read her.
“Welcome to Perfect Match,” she said, extending her hand in human greeting. “I’m Camden Bishop. And you must be the famous .”
Famous? I shot a look at the twins, who were practically vibrating with poorly contained glee.
“Oh yes,” Risa chirped. “We’ve heard all about your work. Especially the Vega System incident.”
“And the Crossfire Club raid,” Rina added.
“And that thing with the Orlian ambassador’s stolen-”
“Classified,” I cut them off, wondering exactly what Larthul had been sharing about my bounty hunting career. “Ms. Bishop, we should discuss security protocols for the upcoming event.”
“Of course.” She gestured toward her office, and I definitely didn’t notice how the station’s lighting caught the auburn highlights in her hair. “Though I hope you’re prepared for some... unique challenges. Our clients can be rather creative about circumventing security measures.”
From the ceiling came a distinct snicker.
“The twins, for example,” she continued with a pointed look upward, “are theoretically banned from the ventilation system.”
“We’re gathering intelligence!” Risa protested.
“You’re spreading gossip,” Camden corrected. “And probably violating several privacy laws.”
“Only the boring ones,” Rina muttered.
This wasn’t just security - it was containment.
Camden’s office was... not what I expected. Instead of the frills and romantic decor that dominated the waiting area, this space was all clean lines and efficient design. Holographic displays showed complex algorithms I recognized from data mining operations. Security feeds - more than strictly legal for a civilian business - monitored key areas of the station.
“You’re surprised,” she noted, settling behind her desk. A small crystalline formation on the corner pulsed with soft light.
“Greetings, ,” a melodious voice emanated from the crystal. “I am MIRA, Perfect Match’s assistant. Your security credentials have been integrated into our systems.”
An AI. A highly sophisticated one, based on the natural speech patterns and apparent self-awareness. “That’s-”
“Completely approved and licensed,” Camden cut in smoothly. Too smoothly.
I let it slide. For now. “About the Valentine’s Gala-”
“Three planetary governors, two corporate spies, and one disaster-prone Thraxxian romance novelist.” She pulled up a security schematic. “All during peak Merrith mating season.”
“The species compatibility issues alone are a nightmare,” MIRA chimed in. “After what happened at the Winter Solstice mixer-”
“That was a completely different event,” Camden said firmly. “And this is our first Valentine’s Gala. It will be fine.”
“The first interspecies Valentine’s celebration in the sector,” MIRA noted. “What could possibly go wrong?”
“Don’t jinx it.”
I studied the schematics, noting several potential vulnerabilities. “These service corridors-”
“Are officially off-limits but regularly used by at least three different species for clandestine meetings.” She highlighted several spots. “The Nazok information network has identified the most popular locations. We usually post warnings about incompatible atmospheric requirements.”
“Usually?”
“Some species consider a little danger romantic.” Her lips curved slightly. “I assume you’ve been briefed on our client list?”
“Including Sarith Vask’s recent... interest.”
Something flickered across her face - concern? Annoyance? “Vask isn’t used to hearing ‘no.’ Especially not publicly.”
“The twins’ video probably didn’t help.”
“The twins’ video has tripled our client requests and sparked two minor diplomatic incidents.” She sighed. “Apparently, watching him get stuck in that door proved we won’t compromise our standards even for powerful clients.”
“Or that you enjoy humiliating them.”
“I prefer to think of it as ‘creative conflict resolution.’” Her green eyes met mine directly. “Speaking of which - how exactly did you end up losing a bet to Captain Larthul?”
The twins. Of course. “That’s-”
“Classified?” Her smile suggested she’d heard that word too often lately. “Like the Crossfire Club raid? Or the thing with the Orlian ambassador’s stolen... what was it exactly?”
“Also classified.” I leaned forward slightly, letting my height advantage remind her that I was still a predator, still dangerous. Most humans instinctively shrank back.
Camden Bishop didn’t flinch. If anything, her smile widened. “You know, for someone who hunts people across star systems, you’re not very good at deflection.”
I was beginning to understand why Larthul had seemed so amused about this assignment. A month suddenly felt like a very long time indeed.