Page 3 of Anders (The Sunburst Pack #2)

T HE O LD P ACKHOUSE ’ S RETROFITTED storage room hummed with the sound of cooling fans and processing units, finally resembling something like the command center Anders had envisioned.

Anders tapped methodically at his keyboard, watching lines of code scroll across the screen.

Five monitors lined the wall before him, each displaying a different feed from around the Sunburst Pack territory.

If you stare at those screens any harder, you’ll burn holes through them, Malcolm said from his perch on the edge of the desk. The coalpha had wandered in twenty minutes ago, ostensibly to check on progress, but Anders knew better.

That would defeat the purpose of installing them, Anders replied without looking up. His fingers continued their steady rhythm across the keyboard. Surveillance systems aren’t particularly effective with holes.

He sensed rather than saw Malcolm’s eye roll. The larger shifter moved around the small room, examining the new equipment with casual interest that didn’t fool Anders for a second. Malcolm had purpose to his movements, always.

So this is where you’ve been hiding the past three weeks, Malcolm said, picking up a coil of cable and setting it down again.

Not hiding. Working. Anders finished the sequence he was typing and hit Enter. The third monitor blinked, cycling through a series of camera views from the eastern boundary. Setting up proper security protocols takes time.

Doesn’t take twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

Anders finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. I sleep.

Occasionally. Malcolm leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his broad chest. You missed the pack run two nights ago. And the bonfire last week. And the—

I’m aware of the social calendar, Anders cut in, returning his attention to the screen. The new motion sensors along the ridge were finally registering properly in the system. I’ve been busy.

Malcolm made a noise somewhere between a snort and a grunt. The point of installing all this security is to protect the pack, right? Hard to do that if you never actually interact with them.

Anders suppressed a sigh. He’d anticipated this conversation, of course. Had calculated an 87 percent probability of Malcolm bringing it up within the next three days. The coalpha was nothing if not predictable in his concern for pack welfare.

My interactions with the pack are precisely as frequent as my job requires, Anders said, typing in the final command sequence for the eastern boundary sensors. I was at the strategy meeting on Tuesday. I trained the younger wolves in basic evasion tactics yesterday morning.

And then you came straight back here to your cave.

Command center, Anders corrected. Caves lack proper electrical infrastructure.

Malcolm chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. There’s that famous Anders humor. I was beginning to think you’d locked it away with the rest of your personality.

Anders swiveled his chair to face the coalpha directly. Is there a point to this visit, Malcolm? Or did you just come to critique my work schedule?

The pack misses you, Malcolm said simply.

Anders hadn’t expected that.

He’d anticipated a lecture on responsibility, perhaps even an order to attend the next gathering. Not this straight acknowledgment of…what? His absence? His value to the pack?

They see me, he countered, but his tone lacked conviction.

They see the new head guardian. They don’t see Anders. Malcolm pushed off from the wall and approached the desk again. Look, I get it. You’re taking this job seriously. After Percy’s betrayal, you want to rebuild trust in the guardian position. But isolating yourself isn’t the way to do it.

Anders frowned, turning back to his screens. He adjusted one of the camera angles, buying time while formulating a response.

Malcolm crossed his arms, watching his new lead guardian carefully.

Security isn’t a part-time job, Anders finally said. Especially now, with Gregory and Hannah still out there somewhere—we know they headed south after they were banished, but my guys lost track of them in Mexico. We can’t afford to let our guard down.

And we can’t afford to have our guardian burn himself out either. Malcolm leaned forward, his tone turning persuasive. The pack needs you at full strength. That means taking breaks, connecting with everyone, being seen as more than just a shadow in the background.

Anders’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. He hadn’t considered that perspective—that his absence might actually undermine the very trust he was trying to build.

It was an irritating oversight in his assessment.

I’ll take it under advisement, he said, which was as close to agreement as he was willing to come right now.

Malcolm sighed, dragging a hand through his short dark hair. There’s a dinner at our place tomorrow night, he said. Nothing formal, just some of the pack getting together. Larissa’s cooking.

Anders raised an eyebrow. Larissa’s cooking? Are you sure that’s safe?

Malcolm grinned. She’s gotten better. Only set off the smoke detector twice last week.

Progress indeed.

So you’ll come?

Anders looked at his monitors, at the half-finished code, at the stacks of equipment still waiting to be installed. There was so much yet to do. The pack’s security had been neglected for too long under Vincent’s regime, and Percy’s betrayal had left gaping holes in their defenses.

But then again, a proper tactical assessment required all variables to be considered. Including Malcolm’s point about pack connection.

What time? he finally asked.

The coalpha’s face broke into a victorious smile. Seven. And bring that appetite you’ve been ignoring while living off coffee and… What is that? Malcolm picked up an empty wrapper from the desk. Energy bars? Really, Anders?

Efficient, Anders defended. Minimal preparation time, adequate nutritional value.

Adequate isn’t the standard we’re aiming for anymore, Malcolm said, his tone turning serious. Not for the pack, not for security, and not for ourselves. Vincent settled for adequate. We’re building something better.

The words hit with unexpected force, and Anders found himself nodding slowly. Fair point. I’ll…diversify my nutritional intake.

Start tomorrow. At seven. With actual food. Malcolm turned to leave, then paused at the door. Oh, and Anders? Take a shower before you come. You smell like circuits and determination.

That’s my natural musk, Anders deadpanned.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. Sure it is.

Malcolm’s phone buzzed, cutting through the men’s quiet laughter.

Anders noted the slight tension in Malcolm’s shoulders as he checked the caller ID.

It’s Nick, Malcolm said, though Anders had already caught the scent of concern rolling off him. Mind if I put him on speaker?

Go ahead. Anders nodded, pulling up the security feeds for the area around the Desert Sunrise Diner. If Nick was calling at this hour, something had triggered his instincts.

Nick, Malcolm answered, setting the phone on Anders’s desk. You’re on speaker with Anders.

Good. Nick’s voice crackled through. Sarah’s here too. We’ve got a situation that needs the guardian’s input.

Anders’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. Nick’s tone was careful—too careful. In the background, Anders could hear the familiar sounds of the diner: plates clinking, coffee brewing, the low murmur of conversation.

What kind of situation? Malcolm asked, his stance shifting subtly into a more alert posture.

The new newspaper editor arrived today. Sarah’s voice came through. There’s something…off about her.

Anders pulled up the town’s personnel records—another system he’d recently integrated.

Etta Barone, he read. Transferred from the Montana Republic . Clean background check, solid references. He frowned at the screen. Almost too solid, actually. No gaps, no inconsistencies. Like someone crafted the perfect résumé.

That’s not all, Nick said. At first we thought she was a wolf—her mannerisms, the way she responds to pack presence. But her scent is wrong somehow.

Anders’s mind immediately started cataloging possibilities. Wrong how?

It’s like… Sarah paused, clearly searching for words. Like someone took a wolf’s scent and tried to cover it up. But not with perfume or anything obvious. It’s more fundamental than that.

And she didn’t follow any of the protocols for entering pack territory, Nick added. No formal notification, no recognition of boundaries. Either she’s deliberately ignoring them…

Or she doesn’t know them, Anders finished, already typing rapid commands into his system. Where is she staying?

That’s another weird thing, Sarah said. She’s renting the old Martinez place on Mesa View Road.

Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up. Wasn’t that bought by some vacation rental company a few months ago?

SwiftStay Properties, Anders confirmed, pulling up the records. LLC formed six months ago, purchased four properties in New Mexico. All in small towns, all currently being used as short-term rentals.

Who comes to Sunburst for vacation? Nick’s skepticism carried clearly through the speaker.

Exactly, Anders muttered, diving deeper into the property records. His gaze narrowed as he stared at the screen. And get this—there’s no actual rental activity recorded for any of them.

What the hell? Malcolm muttered.

Anders shook his head. The company’s formation documents were flawless—another red flag. Real companies had quirks, irregularities. This was too clean, too perfect.

Just like Etta Barone’s résumé.

We sent Quinton to keep an eye on the house, Sarah said. He’ll let us know when she arrives.

Anders was already pulling up the surveillance feeds for Mesa View Road. I’ve got three cameras with partial views of the property, he said. But it’s far enough from town that there are blind spots I don’t like.

Can you fix that? Malcolm asked.

Given time and proper equipment. Anders’s mind raced through calculations. I’ll need to adjust the coverage pattern, maybe add a few new…