The Luna on a Chain
“Her condition and that reaction — it’s something like an allergy to you. Your scent, your blood… possibly other biological particles as well. You’ll need to monitor your contact until I decipher the formula.”
“You’re saying even blood?” Egor muttered thoughtfully as he dialed his phone. “Raisa, what is Maura doing?”
“She’s sleeping in the living room in front of the television,” came the woman’s voice.
“Check her temperature and call me back.”
“As you wish.”
Ending the call, Egor fixed his gaze on his friend.
“I can’t completely solve the problem yet, but this,” Ruslan said, handing him a small paper bag, “should help for now.”