Many Bloody Returns Part 3

more than most people because you can make music with your guitar."

Donika shuddered at that. No one had ever understood that part of her the way that Josh did. He liked the sad songs best, the tragic ones, just as she did. Their conversation meandered, but she didn't mind. All she wanted was his company. Mostly, they just walked.

The paths had been there forever, or so it seemed. There were low stone walls, centuries-old property markers that had been built up by hand and ran for miles. Old, thick roots crossed the path and small animals rustled in the branches above them and in the underbrush on either side. An entire system of paths ran through the woods. They reached a fork and followed the right-hand path. The left would have taken them up the hill toward her house, and that was the last place she wanted to go.

"You seem far away," Josh said as they pa.s.sed through a small clearing where someone had built a fire pit. Charred logs lay in the pit and the stones around it had been blackened by flames.

Donika squeezed his hand and looked up at him. "Nope. Just happy. I love the woods. Being out here...it's so peaceful. So far away from other people. I walk through here all the time, but having you here with me makes it so much better."

Josh stopped walking and gazed down at her. The moon and stars illuminated the clearing, and she saw the mischief in his eyes.

"Better how?" he asked.

She gave him a shy little shrug. "Just feels right."

He kissed her again and she could hear music in her head. Or maybe it was her heart. His hands slid down her back, pulling her

close, so that their bodies pressed together. She liked the feel of him against her, his strong arms wrapped around her. Through his jeans she could feel his hardness pressing into her, and she liked that very much. Just knowing that she had that effect on him made her catch her breath.

His hands roamed, fingers tracing along her arms, and then he stepped back just slightly so that he could reach up and touch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the thin cotton of her tank top.

"Josh," she rasped, enjoying it far too much.

"Yeah."

Donika took his hands in hers and kissed him quickly. "I think maybe I want ice cream after all."

"But it's beautiful right here."

He grinned and ducked his head, kissing her again. Their fingers were still intertwined and he made no attempt to pull his hands away, to touch her again. Donika felt her body yearning toward him, missing the weight and warmth of him.

This is it, she thought. This is what frightens Ma so much.

Donika pulled her hands from his and slid her arms around him, breaking off the kiss. She lay her head on his chest and just held herself against him, nuzzling there. Josh stroked her hair.

Deep in the woods, she heard an owl hoot sadly, and then another joined in. A chorus.

"I am far away," she confessed. "But you're with me. I wish we could be even farther away, together. I love feeling lost in the

woods, like something wild. When I'm out here alone, I like to just run. You'll laugh, but sometimes I imagine I'm running naked through the forest, like I'm some kind of fairy queen or something."

Josh didn't laugh. "Hmm. I like the sound of that," he said. "What's stopping you?"

She blushed deeply and stepped back, trying not to smile. One hip outthrust, she pointed at him.

"You are bad."

"Only in good ways. Seriously, I dare you."

Donika's breath came in shallow sips as she regarded him, lips pressed together, corners of her mouth upturned. The mischief in his eyes seemed to have gotten inside of her somehow. Her skin tingled all over. Nodding her head, she crossed her arms.

"You first."

Without hesitation, he stripped off his T-s.h.i.+rt and dropped it at the edge of the path. He arched an eyebrow and looked at her expectantly.

A rush went through her, a kind of freedom she'd never felt before. It was as though she had just woken from some strange slumber. She grabbed the bottom hem of her tank top and slid it up over her head, then unhooked her bra and let it drop to the ground. The night breeze brushed warmly against her, but she s.h.i.+vered.

Josh stared at her, all the mischief and archness gone from his face, replaced by sheer wonderment. He'd never seen her b.r.e.a.s.t.s before-Donika didn't know if he'd ever seen this much of any girl.

She didn't wait for him to make the next move. Their gazes locked as she kicked her sandals off and then moved her hand down, unb.u.t.toning her cutoffs. She slid them and her panties down together and stepped out of them, tossing them on top of her tank.

"Jesus, you're beautiful," he whispered.

The breeze picked up, rustling leaves. Somewhere close by, the owls cried again. For once, the sound did not seem sad. Josh stepped toward her and she knew how badly he wanted to touch her. She could already imagine his hands on her, the way she had so many times at home in her bed.

She shook her head, smiling, and stepped backward. "Uh-uh. Not so fast, mister. We're going to run, remember. And you're not quite ready."

For a moment he only stared at her, his mouth hanging open. Donika laughed at how silly he looked, but thrilled to know that she'd beguiled him so completely.

Staggering around, hopping on one foot, Josh pulled off one sneaker and then the other. He shucked his jeans and then paused for a second before slipping off his underwear.

Donika trembled at the sight of him. She'd seen an older boy from the neighborhood skinny-dipping in Bowditch Pond one time, but this was something else entirely.

"Oh," she said.

Josh walked toward her. Donika backed up and then turned, giggling, and began to run as swiftly as she dared, watching the roots and rocks and fallen branches in her path. Josh pursued her, laughing even as he called for her to wait for him. As she ran, the thrill of it all rushed through her-her nakedness, his nakedness and nearness, and the forest around them. In her whole life, she had never felt as wonderful as she did there in the woods, running wild, full of pa.s.sion and laughter.

The heat rose from deep inside her, desire unlike anything she'd ever known. Flushed with abandon, she slowed her pace, and let Josh catch up. He nearly crashed into her and they slid together on the path. His lips were on hers and their tongues met. His hands were rough and caressing in equal turns, touching her everywhere, and she let him.

A small part of her-the part that remained her mother's daughter-knew that she would not let him make love to her. But, oh, how she wanted to. Anything else he wished would be his, only not that.

In the branches above them, the owls sighed.

Tangled in her sheets, drifting in that limbo between sleep and wakefulness, Donika knew morning had come. She loved how long the summer days lasted; she just wished they didn't start so d.a.m.ned early. Dimly aware of the bedroom around her, she squeezed her eyes tightly closed and admonished herself for not having drawn the shades the night before. She rolled over to face the other direction, twisting the sheets even more. For a moment she remembered her walk in the woods with Josh the night before and the way his hands had felt on her. A contented moan escaped her lips as she slipped back into blissful oblivion.

Drifting.

Somewhere, lost in sleep, she sensed a presence enter the room and began to stir. Then someone started to sing, loudly and horribly, and Donika sat up in bed, drawing a sharp breath, eyes wide.

Her mother sang "Happy Birthday" in a silly, overly dramatic fas.h.i.+on, gesturing with her hands as though onstage. She wore an enormous grin and Donika couldn't help laughing. Her mother always seemed so grim, and seeing her like this gave the girl such pleasure.

When the song finished, Qendressa bowed deeply. Donika applauded, shaking her head. During her childhood, it had not been quite so uncommon for her mother to clown around for Donika's amus.e.m.e.nt. They'd shared so many wonderful times together. Now that she was older and their desires and morals clashed so often, it had become hard for Donika to remember those times.

Not this morning, however. This morning, all the laughter came back to her. Her mother would be off to work in moments, decked out in her usual sensible skirt and blouse and dark shoes, and her hair was tied back severely, but for a few minutes, it felt like Donika was a little girl again.

"Thank you, thank you," Qendressa said, her accent almost unnoticeable as she mimicked performers she had seen on television. "And for my next trick, I leave work early to come home and make all your favorites."

She ticked the parts of the birthday meal off on her fingers. "Tave kosi, Tirana furghes with peppers, and kadaif for dessert. With candles and more bad singing."

Donika's stomach rumbled just thinking about dinner. The main course was baked lamb and yogurt, which she'd always loved. But the dessert-she could practically taste the walnuts and cinnamon of the kadaif now.

"Can we have dinner for breakfast instead?" she asked, stretching, extricating herself from her sheets.

Her mother shook a finger at her. "The birthday girl gets what she wants, but not until tonight. Breakfast, you make your own. Toast, I bet. You going out today?"

"Maybe to the mall if Gina can borrow her mom's car."

"All right. Back by three o'clock, please. We'll cook together?"

Donika smiled. "Wouldn't miss it."

That was the truth, too. There were times her mother drove her crazy with all her Old World stodginess, but on her birthday and on holidays, she loved nothing better than to spend hours in the kitchen, cooking with her mom. She could practically smell all the wonderful aromas that would fill the house later.

"What about the girls? You talk to them?" Qendressa asked.

"Tomorrow night. They're going to come by to celebrate. We can just have pizza, though."

"Pizza, again?" her mother said. "You going to turn into pizza."

Donika didn't argue. She wasn't about to confess that she and Josh had never gotten around to having pizza last night. Maybe that was the reason she felt so hungry this morning. Her belly growled and she felt a gnawing there, as if she hadn't eaten in weeks instead of half a day.

"We love pizza," she said, shrugging.

"I promised birthday cake tomorrow night, too. And if you are lucky, maybe some good singing."

"Chocolate cake?" Donika asked, propping herself up on one arm, head still muzzy with sleep.

"Of course," her mother replied, as though any other kind would be unthinkable.

"Excellent!"

A flutter of wings came from the open window and a scratching upon the screen. Mother and daughter turned together to see a

dark-eyed owl perched on the ledge outside the window, imperious and wise. Brown and white feathers cloaked the owl and it

tucked its wings behind it.

"What the...? That's freaky," Donika said, sitting up in bed. "I hear them in the woods all the time, but I've never seen one during the day. Do you think it's sick or some-"

"Away!" her mother shouted. She rushed at the window and banged her open palm against the screen. A string of curses in her

native tongue followed.

The owl c.o.c.ked its head as if to let them know it wasn't troubled by Qendressa's attack, then spread its wings and took flight again. Through the window, Donika caught a glimpse of it gliding back toward the woods.

She stared at her mother. The woman had completely wigged out and now she stood by the window, arms around herself as though a frigid wind had just blown through the room. She had her back to her daughter.

"Ma?"

Qendressa turned, a wan smile on her face. Donika studied her mother and realized that the birthday morning silliness was over. A strange sadness had come over her, as though the bird's arrival had forced her to drop some happy mask she'd been wearing. "I should go to work," she said, but she seemed torn.

"What is it, Ma?"

"Nothing," she said with a wave of her hand, averting her gaze. "Just...sixteen. You're not a girl anymore, 'Nika. Soon, you leave me."

Donika kicked aside the sheet that still covered the bottom of her legs and climbed out of bed. She went to her mother. Even with

no shoes on, she was the taller of the Ristani women.

"I'm not going anywhere, Ma."

It didn't sound true, even when she said it. There had been many days when Donika had dreamed of nothing but leaving Jameson,