Page 3 of Marked By the Bounty Hunter

“Thanks.” I untied my apron, grabbed my bag from under the bar. My muscles ached from hours of standing.

The Vinduthi’s eyes burned into my back as I headed for the door. The recycled air felt thick in my lungs.

I made it three steps into the corridor before his voice stopped me.

“You helped the Poraki escape.”

I turned slowly. He filled the doorway, purple markings stark against his gray skin. My neck ached from looking up at him.

“I serve drinks,” I said carefully. “That’s all.”

He moved closer, silent despite his size.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Was he connected to those assholes from earlier? Was this revenge for my interference?

“If you’re going to kill me, get on with it.”

His lips twitched. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have made it to the door.”

I studied him, noting the way he positioned himself between me and any escape route. Professional. Dangerous. But something in his stance wasn’t quite threatening. What it was, I couldn’t quite tell.

“What do you want?”

“Information.” He glanced down the corridor. “Not here.”

Every survival instinct screamed at me to run. But he was right - if he meant me harm, I’d already be dead.

“There’s a maintenance junction two levels down,” I said. “Private enough for you?”

He nodded once, gesturing for me to lead. I tried not to think about how easily he could snap my neck from behind.

The station’s service corridors were a maze of pipes and conduits, lit by strips of pale blue emergency lighting. My boots clanged against the metal grating. His steps were whisper-quiet.

I stopped at a junction where three corridors met, ducking under a low-hanging pipe. “Talk.”

TYRIX

The human woman led me through Nova’s Edge’s service corridors, her boots ringing against metal grating while my own steps fell silent.

Her pulse raced beneath forced calm, but she moved with purpose, each turn chosen without hesitation. That mix of fear and competence caught my interest as I followed her deeper into the station’s guts, through passages thick with rust and buzzing emergency lights.

Nalina, I’d heard the regulars call her.

I studied her in the blue-tinged darkness. Her dark braids had come loose during her shift, but her stance remained balanced, ready. Not just a bartender, this one. The way she positioned herself - keeping options open, watching my movements without being obvious about it - spoke of experience with violence.

“You risked yourself for that Poraki.” I kept my distance, though my instincts urged me to crowd her, to use my size to intimidate. The corridor felt smaller with both of us in it, the air growing thicker. “Why?”

“Like I said, I serve drinks. That’s all. Anything else that happened was just a coincidence.” She crossed her arms, the gesture making her jacket creak softly. “So what do you want?”

“Like I said,” I mimicked her sass. “Information. I’m looking for someone.”

“A bounty hunter.” Her lips curved in a knowing smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Let me guess - you’re after Jevik.”

I moved closer, watching her pulse jump in her throat. “I’m after someone who might know what was wrong with him.”

“And why do you think I might know anything about that?”

I snorted. “I might be new to this particular station, but one thing stays the same all across the ‘verse. Bartenders hear all the news.”

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