Excerpt from the third book in the Ferae series
Jarrod eye the man down the barrel of his Glock 19. Compared to its normal feel it weighed less which meant that it's magazine was low. Not that he needed a lot of bullets to put the man down but it was nice to have options.
“Drop it or I'll slit her throat,” the man said. He tightened his hold as he placed the blade against the side of her neck right near her jugular.
“What if I don't care,” Jarrod replied still considering his options. “Even if you do drop her, You still won't make it out of here alive.”
“You wish,” he said tensing his hand.
Jarrod squinted, focused his gaze and shot before the man could make a move. A red dot appeared on his forehead. His hands dropped to his side as he fell to the ground.
The woman quaked and screamed as she stared at her assailant.
“Go! Leave now!” Jarrod ordered in Basque.
Stumbling a brief moment, the woman steadied her footing then ran away.
“Uriah I told you this would happen,” he said bending over the man's body.
Leafing through the man's pockets he smiled when he found what he was looking for. A small black memory stick attached to a key. He slipped it into his shirt pocket then walked away.
In the distance he heard the wailing of a police's siren. “So much for keeping this quiet.”
Determined not to be caught by the police, Jarrod ran behind the warehouse. Seeing a small car, he broke the window with his elbow, unlocked the door and got inside. He took out a small knife and cracked the steering column exposing several wires. Crossing a couple of them, the old car's engine came to life. He pulled away just as the police arrived.