More screams erupted in his periphery, and he watched the stragglers flee.
He was alone with the dead.
Alone, except for Bennie, who he knew was somewhere close.
His strange new sixth sense flashed a warning, and Jove took to the air like a bolt of black lightning. His finely tuned senses registered the fading muzzle flash even as a distant pop sounded and a slug chipped the cobble below his feet. A powerful pump of his wings sent him soaring toward the source of the flash, the shadowy bell room at the top of his tower.
Three more pops sounded, three more muzzle flashes silhouetted the figure at the top of the tower.
Jove dodged the first two slugs.
The third slug punched a hole in his arm, then his wing, tearing flesh and scattering feathers.
He screeched in pain, lost control as
