Balthazar sat, stood up, paced three times, sat back down again.
He had been doing this for nearly five hours, and he knew things were just beginning.
As soon as they got to Danville, Zack had directed Melissa straight to the University campus, to his mother's laboratory, and practically kicked the doors down to get Vinnie and the pistachios to her in time. After an abridged version of events, she called up her associates, who had an operating room set up and ready to go in a matter of minutes.
Balthazar hadn't been permitted to go in, which he understood, but it did nothing to calm his active imagination, which was picturing all the different ways this pistachio cure might be administered. Given the necessity of an operating room, none of those ways were pleasant.
To be fair, Dr. Underwood hadn't allowed her own son in, let alone his lady friend. As for Milo, he had remained outside the building, not wishing to jeopardize the protocol.
Perhaps Balthazar would have done well to do likewise, to get some fresh air and clear his head, but he found that he couldn't extract himself from a six-foot radius around that blasted chair. Zack and Melissa, meanwhile, left to join their friend, and subsequently returned with Gregory in tow. Somehow, as well as Balthazar had come to know their local fireman, he had never met Mr. Chase's family, and it had never crossed his mind that the girl at the warehouse might in fact be the daughter of the man to whom he had entrusted custody of his only son.
"Pap?" Gregory had asked Balthazar every ten minutes or so. "Pap, what's going on with Dad? Is he going to be okay?"
When it became clear that Balthazar couldn't articulate an answer, Gregory had slumped into another chair, mindlessly doodling as though he didn't know the danger Vinnie was in.
Balthazar knew he should do something else, that if Vinnie's treatment turned out remotely like Mr. Draco's, then it would be weeks before he was ready to venture outside, to be introduced to the public. He should take Gregory home, and come back later to check on Vinnie's progress.
But he just couldn't bring himself to leave.
If he had already seen the last he was going to see of Vinnie alive, then he couldn't bear to leave the possibility of seeing him one last time, even in death.
He dropped to the floor, hands over his eyes, the what-ifs and maybes flying through his mind so rapidly that he couldn't concentrate on any particular one for very long.
That was when a hand tapped his shoulder, and he jolted back into the moment.
It was Dr. Underwood.
She was smiling.
"Mr. Cavendish? Mr. Cavendish, your partner is going to be just fine. We caught his infection just in time."
"'In time'? In time for what?"
"In time to prevent the onset of full-blown vampirism. Mr. Draco proved that vampires could be reintroduced to society, but Mr. Dakota has now proven that it's possible to reverse the effects of the venom completely. He remains entirely human."
The joy that welled up within Balthazar was uncontainable. Human. Vinnie was human. After hoping desperately that Vinnie wouldn't become a dangerous vampire, or even just that he wouldn't die from complications in the treatment, the miracle of having him back as he was before was nearly too much to process.
Without even asking if he was allowed to go in to see Vinnie, Balthazar bolted for the door of the operating room.
"A few hours' treatment and they've got you stabilized?" Balthazar asked incredulously between kisses after he rushed into Vinnie's arms.
Gregory followed behind them and hugged Vinnie tightly, once, before taking a step backwards, blushing and pretending that there weren't any tears in his eyes.
Vinnie nodded. "I'm not a vamp, that's for sure! Which is good, 'cause I could really go for a grinder with extra garlic right now, and hold the blood."
Dr. Underwood walked in, laughing. "Appetite is a good sign; however, I'll have to ask that for the time being you take it easy. I've got a team coming in shortly to evaluate you, and their results will be more accurate if you fast prior."
Vinnie crossed his arms, disappointed. Balthazar planted a sympathetic kiss on his forehead and whispered, "It's all right. As soon as they're done, I'll take you out for the finest cuisine to be had in all of Danville. And you can order it with as much garlic as you like."
"If I do that, do I still get a goodnight kiss?"
Gregory pretended to gag. Lately he had been averse to displays of affection between his parents. Normal for a boy his age, but Balthazar and Vinnie had never let that hinder them in the least.
"Yes. Just be forewarned that I reserve the right to the same allowance of onions. And Mr. Teacher, you can expect to stay home with a sitter if that's going to be your attitude."
Gregory wrinkled his nose but said nothing.
"Deal," Vinnie concurred.
Balthazar laughed, relieved, hopeful. Before long they could put this whole incident behind them, could put the entire apocalypse behind them, could someday reach a point where nobody needed to run incursion drills anymore or watch their loved ones be devoured, where people could move freely between cities, day or night, or even safely live outside of cities.
Maybe they could return to the Manor, and Gregory could be raised as a true Cavendish, and come to know and love the home that would one day be his inheritance. Maybe when Balthazar and Vinnie were old and wrinkled, they could watch the sunset from rocking chairs on the porch, drinking tea, sharing a blanket when it got chilly.
Maybe they could have a future, however distant.
"So how long will it be, Dr. Underwood?"
"Until what?" the doctor asked as she ushered in a conglomerate of fellow hunters—Mr. Block was among them, but Brick and Savannah were not—and scientists, or so Balthazar assumed.
"Until we get this cure out to the general public! Until we end this plague!"
Underwood's face fell. She clutched her clipboard to her chest and took off her glasses. "Mr. Cavendish… that isn't going to happen."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop about thirty degrees. "What? But your cure—"
Dr. Underwood closed her eyes. "Mr. Cavendish, the city of Danville owes you and your partner an enormous debt of gratitude for what you went through in order to obtain the supply of pistachios that is now in our possession. But an estimated billion vampires roam the planet, if projections based on population and urban planning in other countries are to be believed. Even if you had rescued every pistachio in that warehouse, in every warehouse, it wouldn't be nearly enough to bring every single one of them into a functional state as we did with Mr. Draco. It takes around two hundred times as many pistachios to rehabilitate an existing vampire as it does to reverse the process in one who hasn't finished turning. And our supply remains limited." Dr. Underwood paused, and Balthazar realized a number of the scientists seemed to be jotting down notes. They started scribbling faster as she continued, "The protocol I would advise for the city to implement is to reserve Project Marsh's therapy for when one of its citizens is bitten. There is a critical period that I would estimate to be around twelve hours, more or less depending on the weight of the victim, between the initial bite and the point at which the transformation becomes irreversible. In that time, a person who is attacked can be saved. We may not be able to restore humanity to the hordes that haunt our wilderness, but we can at the very least prevent further outbreaks, and loss of loved ones."
Anger burned in Balthazar's cheeks. They hadn't made anything better. They had only kept things from getting worse, like they had always done. "And what about the 'loved ones' who've been turned already?!" he exploded.
"Balthy," Vinnie warned, taking Balthazar's hand in hopes of calming him down. Gregory, who had shrunk back from all the hubbub, stepped awkwardly into the hallway, but kept his eyes on his parents.
"Tell our citizens who've lost friends, family, lovers, and yet know they still roam beyond this city's blasted walls! Tell them you can't spare a cure for the people they care about, because somebody else might get bitten down the road!"
"They've made their peace!" Dr. Underwood shot back fiercely. "They've already finished mourning. Let's not give anyone reason to mourn further." She exhaled and looked down. "The old adage applies. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure."
"An ounce of prevention," Balthazar repeated. He fell to his knees in despair, not caring that it made the throng gawk. "An ounce of prevention would've changed everything if they'd just had it at the bloody outset!" Outside, Gregory put a hand over his mouth at his father's cursing. "If we could've just cured that first vampire… if we could've stopped the plague from spreading…"
Dr. Underwood knelt and placed a compassionate hand on his shoulder. "Believe me, I wish my cure had existed twelve years ago. It would've saved the world a lot of heartache. But it's no use wallowing in that fact now. You can't change the past. You can't go back in time."
You can't go back in time.
Balthazar clenched his fists. He stood up. "Maybe I can, maybe I can't. But I can bloody well try!"
"That's just what I needed to hear!"
The cluster of onlookers parted to allow a man through, an attractive, orange-haired man in a top hat and trench coat.
Balthazar's jaw dropped at the sight of him. How had Balthazar not seen this man before and recognized him immediately?
"D-d-doctor…" he stuttered. "Dr. Zone?"