“Can’t help you,” John says, tapping his cigarette against an ashtray. “Once you’re turned, you can’t go back, yeah?”

He doesn’t know why every bloke assumes he can magically fix their problems. You’re a vampire who doesn’t want to be a vampire. That’s too bad. He feels for you, truly. Not a thing he can do for your poor soul.

“It’s never been done before, and you, my dear, will not be the first to cure vampirism,” he says. “So. Shoo.” You’re wasting his time with unreasonable requests.