by Amira Rain
GIFTED
THE 5 BOOK SHIFTER ROMANCE COLLECTION
AMIRA RAIN &
SIMPLY SHIFTERS
Copyright ©2016 by SimplyShifters.com
All rights reserved.
Get Yourself a FREE Bestselling Paranormal Romance Book!
Join the “Simply Shifters” Mailing list today and gain access to an exclusive FREE classic Paranormal Shifter Romance book by one of our bestselling authors along with many others more to come. You will also be kept up to date on the best book deals in the future on the hottest new Paranormal Romances. We are the HOME of Paranormal Romance after all!
* Get FREE Shifter Romance Books For Your Kindle & Other Cool giveaways
* Discover Exclusive Deals & Discounts Before Anyone Else!
* Be The FIRST To Know about Hot New Releases From Your Favorite Authors
Click The Link Below To Access Get All This Now!
SimplyShifters.com
Already subscribed?
OK, Turn The Page!
About This Collection
Table Of Contents
BOOK #1 GIFTED TO THE BEAR
BOOK #2 GIFTED TO THE DRAGON
BOOK #3 GIFTED TO THE WOLVES
BOOK #4 GIFTED TO THE LION
BOOK #5 GIFTED TO THE ANGEL
BOOK ONE
GIFTED
TO THE BEAR
A PARANORMAL SHIFTER ROMANCE
AMIRA RAIN
Copyright ©2016 by Amira Rain
All rights reserved.
About This Book
Avery Clarke always assumed she was just a normal girl living in a normal world but she had no idea that she was one of the GIFTED.
This was a select few people that had been blessed with special supernatural powers and Avery was one of them.
However, the Gifted are also the HUNTED. FBI agents, government officials and other evil forces all want a piece of her gift and they will not stop until they get it.
So now Avery Clarke has TWO choices.
Run and hide, or trust in a mysterious shapeshifting WereBear named Jim Duncan who promises that he can keep her safe and help her uncover the truth about just how important her gift really is...
This is an epic paranormal romance with elements of adventure, mystery, excitement and some thrilling sensual scenes. If you are looking for a paranormal romance that has a bit of everything then this is it!
CHAPTER ONE
They were going to have to take me kicking and screaming. Or, if not outright screaming, at least “protesting loudly.” I lived in a duplex with a woman and her two young daughters living in one half, and I didn’t want to scare them.
It was three in the morning, and they were knocking on my front door. They were government agents from Washington DC. A peek out my window at the three men and one woman standing in the glow of my porch light told me as much. They were all fairly stern-faced and dressed in black suits, as if that was their official uniform or something. For all I knew, it was. And maybe their stern faces were just because they were tired and angry that they were working at such a late hour and weren’t currently sleeping. At any rate, I knew they were government agents. I’d been expecting them since the day before. I’d also been expecting them to come at any time, even at three in the morning. I’d heard that whenever they got word of a Gifted, they came immediately, at any hour of the day or night, to collect him or her.
But I wasn’t going to be collected. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I wasn’t going to be taken anywhere. I was staying put at my house. I was just going to refuse to leave. If I had to, I would explain exactly why I was refusing. But first, I was going to see if the government agents would just go away. The chances of that were slim-to-none, I knew, but I had to at least see. I simply wasn’t going to answer my door.
I supposed that between the four of them, they could surely manage to kick it in, or break one of the small decorative windows adjacent to the door, reach in and unlock the door, and just get in that way, but part of me wondered if they’d actually go that far. I supposed I was about to find out.
When they’d first started knocking, waking me from a light, restless sleep upstairs, I hadn’t turned on a single light, not wanting them to know I was even awake. Now, after having tiptoed downstairs in my pajamas, I sat in the dark, right on the floor, in a little alcove adjacent to the foyer while they continued to knock on my front door in bursts every thirty seconds or so. After maybe the fourth or fifth burst since I’d come downstairs, a deep male voice sounded through the front door.
“We know you’re in there, Miss Clark, and we’d like to talk to you! Please open the door!”
Nope. I wasn’t going to.
Another burst of knocking, maybe a minute of silence, and then another burst of knocking, a little louder this time. Then, the same deep male voice.
“We’re agents of the United States government, Miss Clark, and we mean you no harm! We’re simply here to brief you about your duty as a Gifted, and escort you to your post! Please open the door!”
I spoke in the quietest of whispers. “No, thank you. Please leave.”
Unfortunately, communicating telepathically wasn’t what made me a Gifted.
More knocking, though it was more like banging this time. It was what might have been described as “cop-knocking.” Then, brief silence. Then, thunderous knocking. Knocking so loud I cringed, hunching my shoulders just about up to my ears. Then, more shouting. Deep Male Voice was getting pissed.
“We have the authority to escort you to your post by force, if necessary, Miss Clark! We’ll just hop up the road to the police station, and we’ll get the police to break down your door!”
That would be fine. Because while they went to get the police, maybe I could escape my house and leave town, though it would have to be on foot. My twelve-year-old car had broken down a week earlier, and I hadn’t had the money to get it fixed.
“Or, we’ll just skip the police and break down your door ourselves! One of my colleagues has just reminded me that we’re fully authorized to do so!”
Dammit. Not that I’d really wanted to leave all my earthly possessions behind to make a break for it on foot anyway to go off to God only knew where. If I had, I would have done it the day before.
More thunderous knocking. More shouting by Deep Male Voice.
“Open this damned door, Miss Clark!”
I still had no intention to, knowing that his threat to break it down might be just a bluff. And I still had hope that there was at least a one-in-a-million chance that the agents would just go away eventually.
More knocking and shouting, but above it all, I was still able to hear the sound of my phone going off somewhere in the kitchen. I’d forgotten it when I’d went up to bed. Wondering if the agents had gotten my phone number, or if it was my neighbor on the other side of the house calling to see what all the noise was about, I got up and carefully made my way out to the kitchen in the dark and located my phone. The name flashing across the glowing screen was my neighbor’s, so I answered, and she began talking even before I’d finished saying the second syllable of hello.
“Avery, this is Pam. The girls are getting really upset by all the knocking and shouting. Will you please let the agents in?”
Suddenly terribly conflicted, I didn’t respond.
After a few moments, Pam spoke again. “Look, everyone in town knows what you did yesterday, and how you did it. Everyone knows now that you’re one of the Gifted. It’s none of my business why you’ve obviously been hiding it, and it’s none of my business why you obviously don’t seem exactly thrilled to
get a visit from the agents; but it is my business that my girls are upset because you won’t answer your door. So, please... will you just do it?”
The last thing I wanted was for the neighbor girls to be upset, and I felt terrible that they were, but at the same time, I still didn’t want to answer the door. When I again didn’t respond after a few moments, Pam’s appeal became even more pleading.
“Avery, please. The girls are crying. They think that ‘angry robbers’ are trying to break into our house. Will you please just open your front door and let the agents in? Or, at least go out on your porch and talk to them? Something. Just please make all the noise stop so that I can settle the girls down and get them back to sleep.”
In the background, I could hear muffled sounds of the two little girls crying. At the same time, the pounding on my front door continued, and I knew what I had to do.
“I’ll go answer the door, Pam. I’m sorry all the noise has scared the girls.”
Soon, after going ahead and turning on a few lights in the house, I yanked open the front door, interrupting Deep Male Voice in mid-shout.
“You happy now? There are children living on the other side of this house, and you’ve scared them.”
A portly, middle-aged man standing at the front of the group of agents snorted. “Then, maybe you should have opened the door sooner.”
I recognized this man as Deep Male Voice.
Blood boiling, I folded my arms across my chest, glaring at him. “Well, maybe you should have had the manners not to pound on the door so loudly at three in the morning.”
Deep Male Voice started to say something else, but he was cut off by one of the other two male agents in the group.
“You’re right, Miss Clark. It was rude of us to knock so loudly, and at this hour. On behalf of my fellow agents, I apologize.”
I started to think of this man, who was tall and slim, as Peacemaker.
Looking at him, I dipped my head in the slightest of nods. “Thank you.”
Peacemaker pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up a little further on his nose. “Of course. Now, may we come in? Again, I apologize for the rudeness and noise, and for disturbing you at this late hour, but we’d really like to talk to you. I’m also getting a bit anxious to get inside and out of this bitter cold.”
It wasn’t that cold. It was late March in northern Michigan, and though the night was chilly to be sure, maybe somewhere around forty degrees, it wasn’t exactly bitterly cold. At least, not compared to how bitterly cold nights could get during the winter. However, I knew that to this man from a state much farther south, forty degrees probably was bitter cold, and in spite of myself, I found myself actually feeling a little sorry for him. Wearing no overcoat, just his black suit jacket, he was shivering just slightly, the movement almost imperceptible, but I could see it.
With a faint sigh, I stepped aside from the doorway. “You may all come in.”
The four agents filed in, one by one, all murmuring thanks. All but Deep Male Voice, that is. Apparently, he thought he was entitled to be invited into my home and shouldn’t have to thank me for it.
Once I’d shut the door, the female agent, a woman of about forty with platinum blonde hair, gave me the tiniest of smiles, softening her stern expression. “I realize you may be in shock right now, and a bit wary of us because you probably don’t know what to expect, which is understandable; but I think once we get to chat a bit, your shock and wariness will turn to excitement. We know you’re a Gifted, and we’ve come to escort you to your post, so that you can begin a wonderful new life protecting your country.”
Having folded my arms across my chest again after closing the door, I now tightened them almost unconsciously.
“Right off the bat, I’ll just tell you that I’m not going anywhere.”
Deep Male Voice snorted for the second time in as many minutes. “Most Gifteds are thrilled and honored to be taken to their posts. Most Gifteds are anxious to defend their country.”
“Well, I guess I’m not most Gifteds.”
Deep Male Voice snorted yet again. I was beginning to think that my mental nickname for him could just as well be Snorty. He began to say something else, but, right on cue, Peacemaker cut him off.
“Look. This doesn’t have to be an unpleasant, hostile thing. Why don’t we all sit down, and relax, and just talk for a minute?”
Platinum Blonde Lady nodded. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. And I, for one, would love a hot cup of coffee. Miss Clark, would you mind? I’d be very grateful.”
Though my guests were definitely of the unwanted variety, I couldn’t be rude by denying them the minimum of polite hospitality. It just wasn’t in my nature.
So, I began heading out of the foyer. “Please follow me to the kitchen.”
After seating the four of them at my circular, honey oak kitchen table, I made coffee, distributing mugs and then setting out spoons, napkins, a sugar bowl, and a carton of half-and-half while it brewed. But, by the time I’d finished with these tasks, the coffee still hadn’t finished flowing into the pot, and I spent a few awkward moments just silently staring at the coffeemaker while my guests silently sat behind me.
To avoid additional moments of awkwardness, I left the coffeemaker, got a package of sugar cookies from the cupboard, and busied myself arranging some on a plate before setting this plate on the table with four smaller plates. “Please help yourselves.”
Even before the awkward moments waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, I’d been debating whether or not to set out cookies. On one hand, it was my knee-jerk reaction to want to offer guests something to eat, but on the other hand, something about offering a snack to people who’d very recently threatened to break down my door just didn’t seem quite right. So, I’d decided against it, at least until awkwardness had changed my mind.
By the time I’d finished setting out the cookies and plates, the coffee was finally done, and I filled everyone’s mugs, returned the pot to the coffeemaker, and then took a seat between Platinum Blonde Lady and Peacemaker.
“I allowed all of you to come inside to avoid my neighbor’s children becoming further scared, and all of you can talk to me about whatever you want while you’re drinking your coffee, I suppose, but I want to make it crystal clear that when you leave afterward, I will not be going with you. I’m staying in my home.”I’d become convinced, though, that Deep Male Voice/Snorty was never going to allow me to.
Peacemaker paused in reaching for a cookie, one slender-fingered hand hovering above the plate. “But we haven’t even told you where you’re to be posted yet. You might be pleasantly surprised to learn—”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t care where I’m ‘to be posted.’ I’m not going.”
Resuming the process of taking a cookie, Peacemaker frowned. “But please consider that you’re to be posted in a place that’s not very far away at all. You won’t have to move to an entirely new state, and adjust to a new climate, or wait to have all your possessions shipped, or—”
“I’m sorry, but it still doesn’t matter. I’m still not going.”
*
There was something about Peacemaker that made me feel just a tiny bit bad about the brisk demeanor I was displaying. I wasn’t even sure what it was. Maybe the fact that he was a stern-faced government agent yet hadn’t been afraid to admit he was cold. Or maybe it was a look of genuine confusion and disappointment in his eyes that what he’d said hadn’t swayed me in the least. Maybe it was just that he seemed appreciative of my setting out the cookies. Whatever it was, it had prompted my I’m sorry before I’d said the rest of what I had.
Before he could respond, Platinum Blonde Lady jumped into the conversation, setting her mug of steaming black coffee on the table. “Well, can you just answer me something? Why, exactly, are you so hesitant to go to your post? We’ve done our homework, and we’ve learned that you’re a healthy twenty-seven-year-old woman who is unmarried, no children, no immediate family to speak of, and no jo
b. We’ve also been able to learn that you’ve primarily been living off credit cards the past several months, and that you have exactly two hundred dollars left in your bank account. So, needless to say, it doesn’t seem like things here in Ridgewood have been going great for you, to say the least. So, why are you so averse to moving to your assigned post to help protect the nation with your gifts? It would be a complete fresh start for you... a whole new life. One where others will see you as a hero.”
Things in Ridgewood certainly hadn’t been going great for me. I’d moved to this sleepy little former copper mining town in northern Michigan, population a scant five thousand, about a year earlier, after accepting a job as an art teacher at the local high school, replacing a teacher who’d decided not to return to teaching after her maternity leave. Because I hadn’t been able to find a teaching job right after college, and because the small art gallery I’d opened instead wasn’t even remotely turning a profit, I’d been thrilled to be hired. I didn’t even mind that Ridgewood didn’t have all the hustle and bustle of Chicago, where I’d been born and raised. In fact, I’d quickly grown to love the slower pace.
But then, almost immediately after I’d moved, The Takeover had happened. That was what most people called what had happened, anyway, even though The Failed Takeover, or The Partial Takeover would have been more accurate.
In a nutshell, an American sorcerer named Alistair Jordan had performed a spell in an attempt to enslave every single person on earth via mind-control. Being that most people in the world at that time didn’t believe in the existence of the supernatural, a sorcerer casting a spell that had devastating consequences had been a bit of a shock. As had what had happened right after.
