“No, but it’s not particularly enjoyable to be in sunlight.”
“What happens to you?”
He set down my suitcases, and pulled out his phone. “We blister.”
“Is that all?” I glanced around the room, pleasantly surprised. I don’t know what I expected Merrick’s home to look like—something out of a German expressionist’s nightmare, all white and black and angles everywhere—but this room was Mediterranean cozy with pale acid-washed-jeans blue walls, darker blue sofa, love seat, and chairs, and, overhead, thick wooden beams that had been stained a honey oak color.
“It can be deadly if we are confined for a length of time in full sunlight, so, yes, that’s all.” He nodded toward a staircase. “You can use the room at the top of the stairs just on the left.”
“This place is breathtaking,” I said, noti
