Cursed by Darkness

Winx is a daevor: a demon who can coerce people into killing themselves. After using her powers to avenge her sister's death, she's sentenced to have her wings severed and serve as a soldier. But Winx refuses to play by the rules. She goes into hiding at a BDSM club in Los Angeles where nobody would think to look for a deadly daevor.
Keaton's friends and family are under attack by savages--people who arise from death as soulless monsters. Winx is the only one with the power to defeat them, and Keaton is determined to harness her dark powers... no matter what it takes.
"Cursed by Darkness" is the first in an urban fantasy trilogy, and it includes the short story, "Killed by Darkness."
Published: 01/06/2013
Publisher: Red Iris Books

Awaiting punishment is usually met with sweating palms and erratic heartbeats. Only those who believe they have done no wrong, or who are sick in the head, walk to retribution with a squared jaw. But Winx was no punk ass bitch. She had been anticipating this day for over three months.

Winx’s hands were cuffed behind her. Her long wings were stapled together. A guard stood on either side of her. Such was the treatment of daevors. If you caught one you had to be careful, for they were extra crafty creatures. The Order had prepared for this and was taking no chances. She had run out of options, and the only thing that awaited her now was her sentence.

The guard took her to the headquarters of the Order compound. It was an overlarge building filled with closed doors and gargoyle sculptures. A long yellow carpet lighted her way to the end antechamber, where a judge and council awaited her. The yellow brick road—Winx was off to meet the wizard.


When they reached the end hall, the guards roughly presented her to the standing greeter.

“Winx Taya Rowan?” The greeter eyeballed the scroll in front of her nose.

“I keep telling them they have the wrong girl,” Winx sassed.

None of them cracked so much as a smirk.

“Present,” a guard answered for her.

“Of course. I’ll announce her. You wait here.” She turned on her heel, went beyond the double doors, and closed them behind her. Winx caught a glimpse of a small room with nothing but a large desk and a few persons seated behind it. The sound of the doors closing echoed throughout the empty hall.

Winx chewed the corner of her lip to pass the time. Eventually, the doors opened again and the greeter returned.

“Miss Rowan is ready to be processed.”

The double doors opened on their own, and the guards drew Winx into the large room. There wasn’t much to the office. No seats save the ones behind the desk. There sat The Three, the prosecutors of those gifted with the Touch.

The middle one was a dark haired Caucasian man who was tall even while sitting down. He wore an intimidating suit and a frown, and had a willowy build with a pudgy face. To his left sat a man of mixed origin with auburn hair and piercing eyes. And the last was Spanish, with suave looks heated by anger.

The Three waited until the doors closed. For a moment, a silence as heavy as a curtain fell over them.

“Winx Taya Rowan.” The middle one, obviously in charge, spoke. “We are London,” he addressed his left. “Esteban,” to his right. “And Orion.” Himself. “The Highest class of the Order, and Assessors under the laws of Edina, Priest and Goddess of the Touched Kingdoms. You are brought before The Three to address your crimes against the human population.”

“I have done no crimes against the human population,” Winx said.

“Is that so? So you are no responsible for the murders of...” He looked down at a paper at his elbow. “Robin Hoggs, Arn Dunning, Matt Gretch, Manny Ellis, Bo Erkett...”

“Not at all.”