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I raise the shotgun and fire.
The recoil slams into my shoulder. One of the men drops behind the vehicle while the others scatter for cover.
Saint fires from behind the stone water trough, his shots measured and controlled. Rafe crouches near the workshop doors beside Shay, returning fire toward the lower field.
More vehicles approach from the far side of the stud.
Shay looks over his shoulder. “They’re through the south boundary.”
“Move three men to the house,” Saint shouts. “Nobody gets near Ma.”
As if summoned by her name, Ma strides out of the back door carrying Da’s old rifle.
Her hair whips across her face in the wind, but her hands are steady as she lifts the gun and fires at the gate.
“Get back inside,” Saint roars.
She reloads without looking at him. “This is my home, son.”
A bullet strikes the stone beside her shoulder, sending shards over the steps. Saint swears and signals two men toward the house.
Straight after, he swivels and fires at the men coming through the broken gate, then freezes.
“What?” I shout.
One of the men turns so the floodlights highlight his face.
Saint keeps his aim. “That’s a Harrington man.”
My stomach drops.
Another man runs across the track wearing the same dark jacket as the guards at Fionn’s family home.
Then another.
“Alasdair,” I whisper to myself. “Fionn must have told him.”
“Fionn told him what?” Dane asks.
“This is a fucking Harrington attack,” Saint yells.
“Doesn’t matter whose men they are,” Shay shouts. “They’re firing at us.”
More figures appear along the field boundary.
However, they aren’t dressed the same. One has a white crow stitched across the shoulder of his jacket.
“The Crowes are here too,” Dane mutters beside me. “Jesus fuck. They’ve come together.”
Saint returns fire and takes out a shooter.
A masked figure emerges from behind the wall near the machinery shed, hood up, a long knife gripped in one hand.
I wave over at Rafe and point across the yard. “The butcher’s here.”
Rafe looks over and lunges without hesitation. Dane bolts after him, grabbing him by the arm and swinging him close to the barn for cover.
“We stick together.”