Disclaimer: All the Nightworld concepts, ideas, names, basically anything you recognize belongs to L.J. Smith. I've just created a few characters to stick into the Nightworld.



A/N: My first L.J. Smith fanfic so all thoughts would be truly, madly appreciated.

Rated PG-13

Yesterdays: Chapter 8

"It's nothing that concerns you." Thorne tried to keep the bitterness from his voice. The vampire could not reveal his master plan – Owen would only try to stop him and that was intolerable. Thorne's oldest and closest friend, yet he could not trust him.

Owen spoke coolly, "My concerns are widespread. One of them includes my new friend."

The bait was just dangling there, waiting for Thorne to pounce. He didn't. What was the use of going into the past when the present was so untenable? And of course he couldn't let the witch see that it mattered to him who his friends were.

But if that were true Thorne wouldn't be on the phone with Owen now. Of course it was just like Owen to buddy up with the one person whose future he intended to destroy.

Owen had always championed those who the world would have broken. How well Thorne remembered the days when his cousin had been his champion, his saviour. And he wondered, if he knew what I was intending, not only to his new friend but to the world would he regret it? Would he wish that I had stayed that snivelling little boy that I had been?

Thorne pushed those thoughts out of his head and tried to focus on the conversation. "Make new friends," he suggested. "This one isn't what he seems."

"I think I can decide that for myself," Owen countered.

But you can't, Thorne thought. Even with all that you have seen, the years you spent as my right hand even with your cutting sarcasm and flashes of temper, you are too good, too naive. You think better of people than you should, and when you finally see the cruelties in front of you, you are shocked, devastated. Would you believe that I would try to save you from that?

The vampire thought back on Owen's face, the day it had all ended.

He had flung the door open, run in and paused in front of Thorne, panting for breath. "Sybil! He's taken her. Hunter. Hunter Redfern's taken her."

"Poor man," the vampire boy had sighed. "He has no idea what he's taken on."

Owen had scowled then, upset that the boy would joke, that he did not take this threat seriously. "Oh, sure," he'd said "She's such trouble I bet you're just going to let him have her."

The vampire had said nothing. He would not deny the truth.

And Owen had stared at him, waiting for the laugh, the issue out some kind of rescue plan. Realization dawned bright and ugly in his eyes as he realized that would never happen. "You're just going to let him have her," he whispered. Same words, and yet so different. The sheer horror on his face, as though it were him who had been betrayed. And then for the first time in all their lives Owen had turned his back on his cousin.

No, he wouldn't believe. But Thorne could not let that sway my course. "Owen, this boy is more than you will ever know. If you value your life, walk away now."

"You have to give me a better reason than that Thorne."

"What better reason than life cousin?"

"How about loyalty, justice, friendship?" came the all too serious reply.

Thorne rolled his eyes. "You've been at Daybreak too long Owen. Any minute now you'll be holding hands with the others and dancing around the fire."

"How can you be sure I'm not already?"

The vampire ignored him, his mind caught on a certain brown haired Daybreaker who was all the reason Owen needed. "What about Sybil?"

Glaciers dripped from his voice as the boy witch spoke, "What about her?"

"Oh, nothing," Thorne answered, knowing he sounded annoyingly blasé. "Just interesting she's here now. Said she wanted to give us another shot, you know. What with the soulmate principle and all that." Silence on the other end so he kept going, "You know how I feel about that. I'll take good care of her."

Thorne raised his eyebrows at the other boy's snort. "Point taken," Owen conceded. "I'll make new friends. It's not like I haven't done it before," his muttering cut clearly across the line.

Thorne hung up the phone, and in the sudden silence of the room the hum of the computer sounded impossibly loud.

He was bothered by the solitude. Being alone was nothing new, but the loneliness that had crept upon him, swift and strong, was. What right did he have to be lonely when he had willingly pushed everyone away? He shook his head. Was it this sudden re-emergence of the past making him so pensive?

Thorne closed his eyes for two steady beats. When he re-opened them they were the same impenetrable violet chips that his staff knew so well. Good. He could not afford to brood when the pieces were finally falling into place.

A/N: I know I don't deserve it, but review anyway.