Chapter 11: Loose Ends
Later That Evening – 10:35 pm
The black sedan pulled to the curb in front of the burnt husk that was once the home of over a hundred vampires, and fifty Death Dealers. If the sun had still been up, the windows of the car would be seen to be abnormally dark. They were, in fact, made to protect the driver against ultraviolet wavelengths of light. As the engine was turned off, an expensive Italian shoe stepped to the curb.
The man attached to the shoe surveyed the damage done to the mansion. The fire had burned hot; extremely hot. Of the mansion itself, almost the only thing left were several piles of ashes, seemingly scattered haphazardly. A small piece of the north wall still stood, though nothing about could show the elegance of the halls that had once been there. The gate to the street had been knocked down by the fire department as firefighters tried to get to the blazing inferno.
But, they could do little to prevent the flames from eating everything in sight.
Despite this, the man knew he'd find what he was looking for. It was protected; its owner wouldn't have been so ignorant to not have done so. But, the difficult part would be in finding it.
Walking into the ruins, he took in the devastation. Besides the part of one wall, there was also a support beam still standing. Using it as a reference, he walked towards the east wall, reasonably sure he would find it there. Reaching the edge of the remains of the mansion, he reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper. He'd written down what he'd had to say phonetically, unable to read the language it'd originally been written in.
He began to recite what he'd written down, the words sounding odd and distant as they exited his mouth. Though he did not know what language it was, those who studied ancient languages might have recognized it as ancient Aramaic. As he finished uttering the spell, a shimmering image began dancing in front of him. As the shimmering continued, what had once been empty space became a small side room of the mansion, totally untouched by the flames.
In the center of the room, the man saw a thick book, opened to somewhere in the middle. As he stepped closer, he saw the pages were old, but seemed to be in perfect shape. He noticed the writing on the left page, recognizing it as Latin. The spell, catching his attention, seemed to call out to him. Unable to pull his eyes away, he began reading it, unconsciously saying it out loud. It was this unconscious slip that would lead him down a long, perilous road.
Suddenly, as he finished speaking the spell, his world seemed to drop away. He was falling, faster than he thought possible. He clenched his teeth, his stomach flying to this throat. A moment later, he landed, his world spinning. He closed his eyes, fighting back nausea, hoping the world would stop spinning. He vomited, chyme burning his throat, his abdomen burning in exertion.
Finally, he could feel the spinning stop. He stood up weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. For the first time, he was able to see where he was. And he knew something was … wrong here.
He was standing in a massive, long hall. He raised his eyes to the ceiling, trying to determine just how big the chamber was. His brows sank in confusion; the ceiling wasn't visible. He wasn't sure if it was because it was so high, or if it was so dark in the hall. The only light he could see in the hall was that of torches interspersed on either side at regular intervals. The torches were barely able to cut through the ink-like dark.
As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he could see he was on a stone walkway. On either side of the walkway, a small canal, easily walked over with a single step, followed it as far as he could see. Walking over to the nearest canal, he kneeled, tasting the water. He was surprised to realize that it wasn't water. "Blood," he whispered. Trying to figure out exactly where he was, he stood up and followed the path.
He wasn't sure how long he walked; it felt like hours, but was probably under a half hour. Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time, he saw a bright light ahead on his left. Drawn to it as a moth to a flame, he wanted to know what this break in monotony was.
Reaching the light, he discovered a room. It was brightly lit in the way that only an examination room could be. In the center of the room, a man sat in a chair that could have been a dentist's. The only difference was that his arms and legs were cuffed to arm and leg extensions, respectively, that had him spread eagle. He also noticed that the man was as naked as the day he was born.
Three scantily-clad women he took as nurses stood around the man. One stood between his legs, running her finger down his chest. As he watched, she kneeled between his legs, and looking up at the man, began performing fellatio. The man's face relaxed, ecstasy filling his mind. But … yet something told the observer something was not right about this.
He happened to notice one of the other nurses' eyes. Her eyes were dark, a depthless void seemingly reflected behind them. The third nurse, the one near the man's head, placed something that looked like a vice around his head. She smiled, her teeth not human, but long, and impossibly sharp. She went to a cart on the side of the room, and picked up something the observer didn't immediately recognize. It looked almost like a railroad spike, but with a handle at the dull end. She flicked her wrist, tiny backwards facing barbs suddenly erupting out of the sharp end of the spike.
She moved back the man's head. She seemed to say something, though he didn't know what. Suddenly, she raised her hand, and plunged the spike into the man's eye. "My eye, my eye," the man suddenly started to scream, struggling against the handcuffs. The nurse flicked her wrist, and yanked, pulling out the man's eye. She brought it to her mouth, taking it gingerly in her teeth. She seemed to savor the taste; it was almost as if she thought it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. Swallowing, she moved to the other eye.
Meanwhile, the observer happened to notice the second nurse hadn't been still. She now stood where she'd been beforehand, only now she had a wicked looking pair of pliers. She took one of his fingers in her hand, and placing the pliers on the end of his digit, she squeezed. The man's screams now echoed out, shaking the observer's resolve. Only now did he notice the first nurse.
Without stopping her ministrations, she brought up a single hand. Holding aloft a single finger, the observer noticed that her nail grew, becoming hardened and yellow. In a single, vicious stroke, she ripped across the man's belly, pale intestines falling out. Still keeping her rhythm, she reached into the man's body and tore the intestines from their connective tissue. Snakes of digestive system fell out onto the floor, heaping next to the nurse. And, yet, perversely, the nurse kept at her ministrations.
Gritting his teeth, the observer moved on, unable to shake the scene from his mind. He turned, stumbling slightly as he closed his eyes. For the first time, he wondered what exactly this place was.
Continuing on his walk, he noticed a dim light straight ahead of him. As he entered the light, he found where the hall led. He was standing in a massive throne room. Looking to his left, he could see that the room opened to the air. Heaviness settled in his stomach as he looked on the landscape. In the distance, he could see a solitary volcano, thick black smoke billowing from its crater. Behind the volcano, he could see the sky, an odd orange-yellow color. Below the mountain, a dark plain lay spread out. Crags and crevices grew out from the base of the mountain like a spider web, lava glowing slightly in them all.
He turned just as he heard a footstep near him. Turning, he saw a beautiful woman walking towards him. Dressed in rich silks, her clothes left nothing to the imagination. Her dark eyes sparkled as she neared him; he swore she seemed to have the same depthless eyes the nurses had had. "Hello," she greeted in a sibilant hiss. This close, he could see that something seemed to be moving under her skin. Something … seemed to writhe just beneath her face. It almost seemed as if her human form was only a façade; that her true form was something much more hideous. "My master will be along shortly."
"Your master," he asked tentatively. His voice seemed to crack under the simple two words.
Before the woman could answer, a deep shadow seemed to fill the throne that sat in the middle of the room. His attention drawn to the great seat, he could now see that the legs and arms were bleached white. After a moment, though, he realized that they weren't bleached white, but were instead bones. Studying them, he noticed that they were, in fact, human bones. He swallowed hard, wondering what exactly the fabric was made of.
The shadow that had entered the room solidified on the throne. Though the figure seemed almost made of the shadows, he could tell that the figure was humanoid. Massive red eyes shone down on him, smoke billowing from the edges. The figure gazed down, and a voice boomed. "WELCOME," the voice began, shaking not only the walls, but the very earth itself. "I WELCOME YOU TO MY REALM, KRAVEN OF LEICESTER."
The former regent felt terror overcome him, his heart beating his throat, as the voice washed over him.
- - - -
Athens, Greece – One Month Later
In his experience, Dr. Stephen Strange had found there were generally two ways lamb was cooked. The first, though it could not mask the particular meaty taste, complimented it, making the lamb taste quite excellent. The second way, however, tended to highlight the taste, making it rather … unsavory. As the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth bit into his gyro, he was glad that the meat was the former, and not the latter.
He was currently sitting at a table for two outside a small restaurant catering mostly to tourists. As it was, though, he had an excellent view of the sea from where he was sitting. Taking a sip of his tea, he thought back to the past month he'd spent in Athens.
When he had left New York, he had had the odd desire to bring the book he'd gotten from the woman in Texas. He wasn't quite sure, but he suspected that the letter he received may have had something to do with that. In any event, once he'd arrived, he had started asking around considering the Order of the Elements. But, despite his best efforts, he'd not been able to find anything.
He had had the feeling, as he had gone about his investigation, that the people he'd been speaking with had been hiding information from him. But, he hadn't been able to prove this. He'd even resorted to trying to a spell or two. But, every time he had done so, his magic seemed to not be effective. Each time, though, he had returned to his hotel room, only to discover that his spells were working there. It seemed as if something was blocking his magic, but he had not sensed anything. He suspected that there may have been a wide acting spell protecting this information from prying eyes and ears. But, again, he was not sure.
After not being able to find anything for the past month, he was readying himself to return to New York without answers. His flight was scheduled for the next day at nine in the morning. Taking another bite, he couldn't help but feel annoyed at his failure to find any information.
Taking another sip of his tea, he looked up, breaking his reverie. He noticed a pretty young woman walking towards the restaurant. Dressed in a sleeveless white blouse and black Capri pants, she seemed quite the tourist. His gaze followed her progress until she disappeared at the entrance of the restaurant. If only I were a few years younger, he thought wryly.
He finished his lunch, only to be surprised a few moments later when the same woman appeared almost out of nowhere next to him. "Dr. Stephen Strange, I presume?" This close, he could see her dark eyes, exuding warmth and intelligence.
"Uh … yes," he replied, unsure of what to make of her.
"My name is Katerina Menounous," she said, holding out her hand. "May I sit," she asked politely, after he'd taken her hand.
"I suppose," he answered. If nothing else, there seemed to be a certain kind of professionalism about her. The very way she carried herself seemed to suggest she was a high-level employee at a large firm. "What is this regarding?"
She sat down, putting out her hand in greeting in the process. As he took it, she said, "Let me first say it is a pleasure to meet you, doctor." She gestured the waiter over, and speaking in Greek, ordered a light lunch. "I hope you don't mind if I order lunch; I'm famished," she said. After the waiter had left, she turned towards him. "I suppose I do not have to tell you who I represent."
"The Order?" He warily studied her face, waiting for her to answer in the negative. Instead she nodded, and turned slightly, a small spot of dull, amber light appearing on her left shoulder. The small point of light expanded until it became a quarter circle, the point towards her elbow. In the center of her tattoo, a tornado seemed to move slowly, carrying debris within. "I received that letter over a month ago. Why are you contacting me now?"
"We were faced with several simultaneous problems, doctor," she answered. The waiter returned with her order. As he retreated, she continued, "I apologize for you having to wait for so long; it was not intentional. The problems I spoke of had to be taken care of quite rapidly."
"If these problems you spoke of were magic related, I could have been of use."
"No doubt," she replied. "However, there was the sensitivity of each of the problems. To have someone who is not a part of the Order to assist us is a massive security risk. Thus, we could not employ outside help."
"And what exactly do you want with me now? You couldn't have inducted me into your society?"
She smiled wryly. "There … were considerations made on your part. We did not want to scare you off at the first meeting." She looked over at the waiter again. "If you are curious as to why we contacted you, come with me after lunch. There is something I am sure you would like to see."
Though his original intention was to meet someone from the Order, he'd been put off by them. They had, after all, requested his presence. And it was only now, over a month later, that they had finally decided on contacting him. "Fine," he said finally. "But, I hope it was worth the amount of time I waited."
"I assure you it will be." She smiled jovially. "In the meantime, you simply must try the baklava here. It is absolutely delicious."
- - - -
An hour later, Dr. Strange found himself outside a small, dilapidated building. As they neared the building, which he thought was a store, he caught sight of an old, grizzled man dressed in an old, raggedy coat. He was drinking something out of a brown glass bottle. As he and Katerina passed the man, he looked up at them with rheumy eyes, his nose and cheeks red with drink.
Katerina opened the door to the small building. "This way," she gestured him inside.
Stepping inside, the sorcerer found himself in a small, dim hallway. Above him, a single naked bulb struggled to put out the pitiful light it did. The walls, once white, were now a dark shade of gray, spider-webs of cracks running up and down. "Follow the hall," Katerina told him. Doing as he was told, he walked to the end of the hallway, to find it opened up into an old apothecary shop.
Katerina came up behind him, and started speaking to the shop owner, an old woman with a round face. The two began talking to each other, obviously about him, in a language he … thought he recognized. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it at first. Realization suddenly dawned on his face. "That's …."
"Yes," Katerina said, turning to him. "It is the language of the Ancients."
"How is it that you both know it?"
"Come with me," she answered, "and I will show you." She walked forward, going for a door on the other side of the room. She turned once, to make sure he was following. "What you will now see is perhaps one of the most guarded secrets in the history of the world. Do I have your solemn word that you will not share what you see here with anyone living, dead, or otherwise?"
"Yes, of course."
She opened the door, leading to what seemed to be a storeroom. What hadn't been in the front of the store was found back here. He could smell herbs and a potpourri of incense back here. Though each scent wasn't bad in and of itself, mixed together they were almost overpowering. He found his eyes starting to water, his nose going dry from the thick incense. She kept ahead of him, walking towards the opposite wall. She stopped in front of a small alcove, an odd looking outlet on the wall on her left. "Are you ready," she asked.
"Yes," he answered. His throat was dry, the buildup starting to make his heart flutter. "I'm ready."
"Good." She put her hand on the outlet gently, removing it a moment afterwards. The outlet opened, revealing a metal wand-like apparatus concealed within. The wand came out of the wall, revealing an oddly wide head. A laser fired suddenly from the wand, not unlike a bar-code reader, and began moving over her left shoulder. As the red, horizontal light passed over her tattoo, it lit up with a slight amber glow. As the wand finished moving over the tattoo, it beeped, and returned to the outlet. The wall opposite the entrance to the alcove opened, revealing a hidden door. "Come with me and you will see just how far this rabbit hole goes."
He followed her through the doorway, only to find a hallway leading into the bowels of the earth. Torches lined the walls as far as he could see down, the soft light giving the hard rock an almost familiar atmosphere. As he walked into the hall, the rock closed behind him with a surprisingly soft sound. As he followed Katerina, he asked, "How far does this hall go down?"
"I don't know exactly," she replied, looking back. "The moment we entered this hallway, we entered a portal. No one is really quite sure how far down the hallways go because very few people even know where this cavern is."
"We're no longer in Athens," he asked.
"No, we are not," she replied. "Each entrance to the cavern we are walking to is a portal opening somewhere on the surface. It is another security feature to protect us. If someone were able to get as far as the door, and actually open it, the portal that brought us here would automatically send that person somewhere else." She looked at him over her eye. "Usually that place is somewhere very hot or very cold. People are generally teleported to Siberia, Antarctica, or maybe the Outback, or even the Sahara."
"You said that if they even got to the portal, which means that there are other security protocols?"
"The two people we saw on the way in are both Order members, and are both quite dangerous."
"I see." The hallway continued on, sometimes meandering to the right or left. But, irregardless of which way it turned, it kept moving downwards. After what seemed like an hour, but was probably closer to ten minutes, another question occurred to him. "Your organization is so secretive, and I expect that relatively few people join your Order every year, yes?"
"Yes," she acquiesced.
"Then, why was it that you reached out to me?"
She smiled wryly. "I suppose there is no reason for me to explain; after all it was I that put out your name." She stopped, and turned towards him. "Earlier this year, Augustus Aurelius, the Grand Vicar for the Order of the Elements for the last two and a half millennia passed away from unnatural causes."
"Unnatural causes," Dr. Strange asked.
"He was conducting a … very dangerous spell, and it somehow backfired. We are unsure as to how this was possible, but we are still investigating the matter." Her face had grown serious, a worry creasing her brows. "After his funeral, the High Council convened to determine who the next Grand Vicar should be. We fought back and forth for over a month, unable to nominate a successor. We were trying to nominate someone from the Council, but every time one person was nominated, another would challenge it." She sighed exasperatedly. "The other Council members do not wish to hear it, but they have truly become too political for their own good."
"You're a member of this Council," he asked, almost rhetorically.
"Yes," she replied. "Unable to find someone within the Order, it was decided that we should find someone outside the Order. I was the one to nominate you, and was thus asked to meet you."
He digested this information, mulling it over in his mind. "There were other nominations?"
"There were," Katerina supplied, hesitantly. "But, many of them … had questionable ethics, to say the least. Once I suggested you, most of the other Council members jumped aboard. In retrospect, many of them realized you were the best choice."
"I see," he said. He looked her square in the eyes. "And you assumed I would be willing to be you leader?"
"No," she answered truthfully. "I had wanted to give you a tour of our base, first. And I also wanted to give you the option to beg out of the position. It is quite a responsibility to take on."
He soaked in her words, seemingly finding something exquisitely interesting on the ground. Finally, he looked up. "Once I became the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth, I became one of its defenders. Perhaps it was destiny that I became what I am today, or perhaps it was all happenstance." His eyes steeled, his jaw growing rigid. "Now, I have a chance to do more to protect the Earth, and its inhabitants. As such, I don't think I have much of a choice here." A wry smile grew on his face, his eyes sparkling. "Yes, I will be your Grand Vicar."
- - - -
X-Mansion – Two Months Later
Lucas Bishop crouched low behind the snow bank, searching for his opponents. The first hard snow had come early this year, halfway through November. Now, in the first week of December, the snow had accumulated that much more. Two major snowstorms in less than three weeks had deposited over twelve inches from as far west as Illinois, to as far east as New York City, and as far north as northern Michigan to as far south as Maryland. There had been a record number of schools calling off for snow days.
The big man listened intently, his face a mask of grim determination. Though his hands were getting cold from the snow slowly seeping into his gloves, he didn't lose his concentration. Suddenly, he heard a crunching behind him, someone moving through the snow. He turned … just in time for a snowball to hit him square in the chest.
"Oh, c'mon, that was too easy," Jubilation Lee exclaimed. She grinned widely from beneath her thick coat.
"Yes, it was," Bishop replied, throwing the snowball in his hand. The young X-Woman easily dodged the wet ball as it hit the ground harmlessly behind her.
"You missed me," she sang. A moment later, two snowballs hit her almost simultaneously, one from her left, one from her right. Before she could say anything, though, two more pelted her in succession on the back. "Hey, no fair!"
"Nah, 'tain't fair. But, we surprised you, non?" Remy's eyes sparkled devilishly, the familiar charming smile spread easily across his face.
"Yeah, you did," she said, the fire in her eyes dying down some. "But if you and Rogue were there, who was behind me?" She turned around, slowly. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she saw who had thrown the other two snowballs at her. "Bobby … I thought you were on my side."
"Hey, it wasn't my idea," he said, smiling widely. Jubilee had known him long enough to know his "lying" smile when she saw. "She put me up to it," Bobby said, pointing to the woman standing next to him.
"I did not," Kitty decried.
"Did she now," Jubilee asked loudly, her face becoming a mask of devilishness.
"I did no such thing," Kitty restated, looking between boyfriend and girlfriend. As her gaze fell back on the other X-Woman, she got a face full of soft snow. "That is it," she cried, wiping off the snow. She reached down to form a snowball, the first step in what would become an all out snowball battle….
- - - -
"They're having fun down there," Jake said, looking back at the Professor. "Are you sure you don't want to go down there?"
"I'll be fine," Professor Xavier said pleasantly, a small smile on his face.
"Well, you know, can't blame a guy for tryin'," Jake came back, walking towards the TV in the room.
"No, I suppose not," the elder man replied.
"Am I too late for the verdict," Hank asked, as he suddenly bounded into the room.
"No," Jake replied. "They're about to announce it." He turned up the volume of the small TV, and focused on the reporter.
"This was the scene just minutes ago when jurors handed down the verdict on the Harris Gunn case in this small Kansas town." The reporter paused momentarily as the image on the television shifted from the exterior of the Kansas courthouse to the inside, just outside of the courtroom. "Viewers will remember that Reverend Harris Gunn was arrested three months ago after an anonymous tip connected him with the largest child pornography ring on record. When authorities raided his small church in this rural Kansas town, known for its strong views not only on mutants but on gay marriage, they found pictures and files implicating him with an international illegal pornography ring. Gunn was the lynchpin in the investigation, his arrest leading to over three dozen related arrest warrants. Today, the jurors in this small town found him guilty of all charges. It is expected that authorities…."
"At the least, we now have closure to our little sally out west," Hank said, leaning against one of the overstuffed chairs.
"Unfortunately, that is not the case," Professor Xavier stated, turning to face the other two. "We still have not determined how the virus that was sent to us was able to jump from our student network to that of our computers downstairs. They are, after all, on entirely different networks."
"Not to mention our computers have security protocols and enough computational power to make the collective personnel at the Pentagon shit their pants." The other two men frowned at Jake's language, though they did agree with him. "Kitty," he continued, "has been having a hell of a time trying to figure out how it happened."
"Yes, she has," Hank agreed. "From what we have seen, she and I are both of the opinion that something … supernatural occurred."
"Knowing our luck, it probably was," Jake said.
"If that is the case," the Professor said, "then it is unlikely that we will ever … find out … what happened." His eyes grew distant, his brow dipped in concentration. A moment later, his eyes cleared, and he whispered a single word. "Cain."
- - - -
Cain Marko, the man known by many simply as the Juggernaut, lay comatose on the reinforced bed. He was hooked up to several different machines, monitoring his vital signs, his skin deathly pale. His fingers and toes were blue from the cold, frostbite having started to take hold of his extremities. As it was, Hank was hoping against all that he knew that he would not have to amputate anything.
At the side of the bed, Professor Xavier kept vigil over his stepbrother. When he had sensed him, Cain had been almost on the grounds. By the time they had reached him, the massive man had collapsed at the front gates from exhaustion, exposure to the elements, and dehydration. By that time, he had been only half of his Cytorrak-empowered nine hundred pounds. They had brought him inside almost immediately. That had been almost forty hours earlier.
Since that time, the founder of the X-Men had been sitting beside the larger man. He'd been searching for any conscious thought. But, still, Cain had not awoken from the coma.
Unable to fight his own exhaustion, the Professor had finally succumbed, and had finally dozed off, if only for a little while.
"Charlie," the weak, hoarse voice of Cain Marko softly spoke. The effect on the geneticist was almost immediate. Professor Xavier woke up almost as if he'd been prodded in the side, looking around momentarily.
"You're awake," the Professor said simply. At the same time, he reached out with his telepathy. But, as his mind touched Cain's, a sudden migraine welled up, threatening to break his concentration. Even as the headache struck, he felt memories washing over his mind, becoming his own. Streams of memories flashed through his mind at the speed of thought; memories of his childhood, as seen through the eyes of his stepbrother. The stream sped up, the pain in his head becoming all consuming. And as the headache became too much, the memories stopped just as the painful scream echoed out of his throat.
As the pain subsided, Professor Xavier fixed his stepbrother with a sorrowful look. "I'm sorry.… I never knew."
"I didn't either," Cain replied. "Not until they showed me."
"I ain't too sure who they were, but they…," he began. The larger man moved his gaze to that of his stepbrother. "I was doin' a job in Italy…. Alls I remember is I had ta steal somethin'. But, I don't remember what … and I don't remember who hired me." He looked down to the rest of his body, examining what had happened to him. "They captured me; they used some kinda spell that locked me in place. Afterwards, they blindfolded me and took me to their … cave. They showed me when we were kids … only through your eyes." He cast his eyes down again, almost shamefully. "I'm sorry."
"It's not either of our faults what happened to the two of us," Professor Xavier said kindly.
"No," Cain said, seemingly accepting the fact forlornly. "We couldn't have." He looked up again, capturing his younger sibling's eyes. "After they did that, they told me I had a choice. They said I could either be against you, or with you. And, then they showed me what would happen with each choice." The big man smiled wryly. "One of 'em, you took me out personally. I wouldn't o' thought ya had it in ya. The other, well, I ain't exactly a saint, but I'm on your side."
Just as he finished saying that, the door burst open, Jake and Betsy thrusting them selves into the room. "What the hell was that scream about," Jake asked. But, even as he asked, a lightning bolt erupted from Cain's side, striking them in their chests. They fell to their knees, gritting their teeth as energy was pulled from them at an alarming rate. As the energy met Cain's body, it blanketed out, covering him in blue light.
The energy drain slowly slackened, allowing the lovers to finally stand. Their gazes fell on Cain's body, where, as the energy dissipated over his body, they saw what had happened. "This is too sodding odd," Betsy said, taking in the scene before her.
Lying on the bed was Cain Marko. Now, though, blue armor, so dark it was nearly black, covered his body, in the same design as his original armor.
AN1: For those of you unfamiliar with "Underworld", Kraven was the second-in-command under Viktor. He betrayed the vampires when conspired with Lucien to overthrow the vampire elders. He later betrayed the werewolves, as well.
AN2: Stay tuned for "The Protector Saga, part III: Parallels".