Disclaimers: Angel belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, the WB, Kuzui Enterprises, Greenwolf Corporations, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Television, and Twentieth Century Fox Productions. And copyright infringements were not intended. This story was written for entertainment and not for profit.

Spoilers and Timing: takes place the night after "Provider."

The Darmians are characters that are copyrighted @ 2002 by Danielle Frances Ducrest. You must ask for permission before using them.

Summary:

Author's Notes: I'm having a serious case of writer's block toward all of my WIP's, so this is my break from pretty much all of them.

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Nola had been running for too long. At her weakened state, she wouldn't last for much longer. She couldn't go to the hospital. There were no legal documents of her existence anywhere, and the family would punish her if they found one being made by a physician. There was only one place she could go in Los Angeles where she would be safe.

Her cab pulled up in front of an old, run-down hotel building. She paid the large cab fare before she opened the door. As she stood up, she pulled on the wound on her side, making her wince.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" the driver asked.

She gave him a reassuring smile before getting out and closing the door.

She looked up at the building while the cab drove off. On the fence was the sign:

Angel Investigations

Paranormal Specialists

Hours: Sun-Sat: 9 AM - 1 AM

She glanced at her watch, making her side hurt again. She checked the wound to make sure it hadn't started bleeding again, then proceeded onwards.

Opening the door, she was immediately blasted with the warm air filling the hotel, not to mention the middle of a conversation.

"Gunn, what do you think - yacht or cruise ship?" a tall, bleach-hair woman asked. She stood behind a counter, counting a stack of bills. Nola frowned uncertainly at the pile of cash. Did she even want to know how they'd acquired it?

"I'd go for a yacht," an African-American man answered. He looked around thirty and had a completely shaved head.

"We'd probably be able to afford the cruise ship if we wanted to," another man, this one with an English accent, added as he walked out of an office.

He spotted Nola first and started staring. Nola knew what he was looking at, her eyes. She had 'eerie' red eyes that stood out against her features and clothing. It had happened before. After all, no human outside the Darmian family had red eyes anymore. "Hello. I'm Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and those are my associates. Welcome to Angel Investigations. Can we help you?"

Now Nola was the center of everyone's attention. The black man and the bleach-haired woman come to stand by Wesley, and two more people joined them.

This was it. She hoped they were used to surprises, because she knew what she was about to do certainly qualified as one.

/Hello. I need some help, and I was told that I could get it here/.

That certainly surprised all of them. "Did anyone else just hear that?" one of the two women asked. Nola noticed that she had a heavy southern accent.

"It sounded like she just spoke in my head," the black man said.

/I did. I'm sorry that you had to find out about my talent this way, but talking would be difficult/.

Wesley said, "You're very skilled at projecting thoughts, Mrs…?"

/My full name is Danica Arien Nola-annora Asalie Darmian, but it's all right if you call me Nola/.

"Darmian?" a tall man with hair full of gel said. It was obvious that he knew the name.

"Angel? Something you want to tell the rest of us?" Gunn asked.

Wesley said, "The Darmians are a family with very powerful psychic abilities, which explains why Ms. Darmian has telepathic powers."

Her wound was hurting again. It made her wince and she pressed her fingers to her side. /I need some first aid. I heard that I could get some here/.

Angel, Gunn, and Wesley rushed forward and helped her over to the ___ in the middle of the lobby while the two women got the first aid supplies. When they came back, Nola lifted her shirt so they could see her wound.

Handmade bandages covering it were soaked through with dry blood. She lifted them to reveal the wound, which had just reopened and was beginning to bleed again.

Cordelia inspected the wound before taking the old bandages off and applying a fresher one. "You could have gotten this done at the hospital, you know," she commented.

Nola shook her head. /The hospital isn't an option when you're a Darmian. The family doesn’t want any government records made on any of us/.

"Couldn't you just use your psychic powers to make them forget they ever treated you?" the other girl, Fred, asked.

Nola smiled. /I don't have that kind of power. My talents lie elsewhere/.

"Yeah, speaking of those talents, why can't you talk the same way we are?" Gunn asked.

Nola sighed. /I used to/.

She opened her mouth wide so all of them could see inside. /But if I tried to now, it would sound like gibberish/.

"Woah. No tongue," Angel commented.

"How'd that happen?" Gunn asked.

/It's a long story, and it's the main reason why I'm here."

"Other than to keep your guts from falling out?" Cordelia remarked dryly. She finished dressing the wound and Nola pulled her shirt back down. "That should hold for awhile. Just don't move too much or the wound will open again."

/Thank you/ Nola said, thankful that the foul stench of her own blood was gone for now.

The front door of the hotel opened again, and someone with light green skin and red horns walked into the lobby. He stared at her, and her mouth fell open at the sight of him. "Asalie?" he asked, walking forward.

She smiled. /Lorne! What are you doing here?/ He tried to hug her, but she stopped him and pointed at her side. /Got wounded, sorry. You'll have to hold that hug for some other time/.

"Oh. Sorry," Lorne said, then realized something. "Why aren't you talking, sweetheart? You're not going through another silent phase, are you? Should I be calling you Tacita again?"

Tacita meant 'Silent.' Nola smiled sadly at the memory. /You can if you want. I won't talk again/.

She showed him her lack of a tongue and his eyes widened. "Asalie! What happened?"

"That's what we're wondering, actually," Wesley said. "You two know each other?"

"Old friends," Lorne explained. "Met her a few years ago at Caritas. This girl could really win a crowd. Of course, at the time she had an intact chest, not to mention a tongue." He looked at her, his concern obvious.

/If it's not obvious already, I'm in trouble/, she informed them. /A member of my family, Toshi Darmian, went renegade a few years ago, and he's been chasing my sister, Atalanta, and I ever since. One time when he captured us, he tortured us for days before slitting my tongue. We managed to escape after that, but that's how I lost my ability to speak/.

Lorne looked sympathetic. She smiled reassuringly at him. /Don't worry, I'm getting used to it. But anyway, a few days ago, I had a vision after going for three months without one/.

"A Vision? You mean you're a messenger?" Cordelia asked.

She shrugged. /It's not my main role in the family. I only get ones that have something to do with a Darmian. Anyway, my latest one told me that my sister had gone into hiding and that Toshi was just outside the room/.

"Sounds like it helped a lot," Cordy said, sarcastic.

/Actually, it did. I teleported myself to a weapons room and managed to grab a broadsword before he teleported after me. He got another sword and we fought. We both knew how to use them, but he'd been practicing more often than I had and he won. He got by my defenses and managed to stab me. I quickly teleported myself out of there and cast a few illusions to disguise where I'd gone, and then I came here/.

"How'd you find us?" Gunn asked.

/My father had heard about you and he'd mentioned Angel Investigations a few times, so I decided to check it out/.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop quickly, and goosebumps traveled up Nola's flesh. /Shit/ she cursed, quickly standing up, her wound forgotten. The other's didn't feel it and were therefore confused by her actions, but that wasn't why she was alarmed.

She could feel a presence, and knew that only another Darmian could make her feel this way.

"Uh-oh," Lorne said, backing up and looking around wildly.

"What? What do you mean, uh-oh?" Angel asked him.

"I’m seen her get that look before. It means that a member of the family is in range."

"Think it's her brother?" Cordelia asked, worried.

Wesley handed out weapons, and Angel went into Wesley's office to protect Connor, his one-month-old human son, who was sleeping in his cradle.

/It's not him/ Nola informed them after a long moment of intense concentration. She looked excited. /It's Atalanta/. She turned to Gunn and Angel, who stood holding weapons near the front door. /You should step back. She's about to teleport in/.

After exchanging a look, the two moved out of the way. Then all of them waited.

The air shimmered just in front of the stairs. A shaft of light, which started at the ceiling and ended near the floor, appeared in the space before disappearing again. It left behind a young woman with dark brown hair and red eyes. Physically, she looked exactly like Nola. There were a few differences; the most noticeable one was a long, thin scar that ran across her left cheek from her ear to the tip of her lip.

The second most noticeable thing was the look of fear in her eyes. Atalanta met Nola's gaze. /What's wrong?/ Nola asked her, and only her. She had the power to project her thoughts to only one person in the room, and she used that power now.

/Can they be trusted?/, Atalanta asked.

/Yes/.

Atalanta nodded and spoke aloud, "Hi. We don't have time for pleasantries, sorry. Dugan is here."

"Dugan?" Fred asked, confused. "Who is he?"

/Dugan is one of Toshi's other names. He has a long name like mine/, Nola answered. /I'm explain it all later, but now we have to get out of here/.

"How close is he?" Wesley asked.

Everyone looked at Atalanta. "He could be minutes or hours. I don't know. It depends on how long it takes to find the illusions that masked the, um, 'psychic energy' trail that teleporting made."

"Then we'll take the cars," Wesley decided.

"Why don't we just stay here and fight him?" Gunn asked.

"Um, have you ever fought a Darmian? Trust me, it's not a good idea," Lorne told him.

"Lorne's right. His psychic abilities are too strong. We have to leave," Atalanta said.

"Okay then," Angel said. "Gunn, Cordy, and Fred, you guys take Gunn's truck. Everyone else, in the convertible. We'll meet up at Cordy's place."

Everyone headed for the door when the air in front of it began to shimmer. /Shit, he's already here!/ Nola said, beginning to panic. She was still tired from their last confrontation. She wasn't ready for another one.

"Nola? Can you teleport us out of here?" Atalanta asked her. Nola was better at teleporting large groups of people, so that's why she asked.

She shook her head. /I'm too weak/. She turned to the Angel Investigations crew. /Is there another way out of here?/

Angel nodded. "We'll take the sewers. This way."

They followed him to the other side of the room and the hall below one of the staircases. Abruptly turning left, they headed inside a cellar and traveled down a short flight of stairs. Angel opened a hatch and stood by it as they all scrambled down into it, then shut it behind them.