In the dark and relentless world of assassins bound by codes, hidden allegiances, and unbreakable oaths, Blood Oaths and Shadows offers a thrilling collection of interconnected short stories set within the legendary universe of John Wick. These stor...
The gentle rhythm of the train through Bavaria's snow-covered landscape should have been soothing. But Sarah Wells hadn't known real peace since leaving Berlin three days ago. Since choosing conscience over loyalty. Since becoming a traitor to the High Table.
She touched the silver cross Father Glenn had given her, now hanging beneath her shirt. A reminder that even in darkness, light persists.
Her contact would meet her at the next station-someone who could arrange passage to Bangkok, where Marcus waited. Marcus Shaw. The Debt Collector. The man she'd never quite managed to forget.
Sarah closed her eyes, letting the train's motion carry her back. Back to Tokyo, five years ago, when she first met the man who would complicate everything...
---
*Tokyo, 2018*
The Yakuza ambush had been perfectly planned. Six enforcers, all elite, had cornered her in the narrow alley behind Club Nemesis. Her mission to eliminate their oyabun had succeeded, but the escape route had been compromised.
"Take her alive," the lead enforcer ordered in Japanese. "The Table will want proof of her betrayal."
Sarah had three rounds left in her Glock and a knife that would be useless against their superior numbers. She calculated odds, angles, possibilities. None looked good.
Then *he* appeared.
"Gentlemen," a smooth voice called from above. "I believe this dance card is full."
Marcus Shaw dropped from the fire escape like an avenging angel in a bespoke suit. His matched Berettas sang a deadly duet, dropping two enforcers before they could react. Sarah seized the moment, putting her remaining rounds through another's chest.
They moved together as if they'd trained for years, covering each other's blind spots. Marcus flowed like liquid silk, every shot precise, every movement efficient. Sarah matched his rhythm instinctively.
When it was over, six bodies cooled on rain-slicked pavement.
"Sarah Wells," he said, holstering his weapons. "The Table's rising star. Your reputation precedes you."
"Marcus Shaw." She kept her weapon ready. "I wasn't aware the Debt Collector involved himself in wetwork anymore."
"I don't. Usually." He smiled-a dangerous, charming thing. "But when I heard they were planning to frame you for the oyabun's death, I thought you might appreciate some... unofficial assistance."
"Frame me?"
"Someone in the Table wants you eliminated. The oyabun contract was bait." He gestured to the bodies. "These men would have provided false evidence of your 'betrayal.'"
