“Nay,” Angus said softly. “I can tell that ye’re struggling, lad. Ye’re slow and weak.”

A flash of anger sizzled through him. “Dammit, Angus. I’ll heal quickly, ye know that. By the time we locate Casimir, I’ll be ready—”

“I said ye’re no’ going.”

Robby squeezed the hilt of his sword so hard, his newly healed fingers ached. “Ye canna do this to me. I have the right to avenge myself.”

“That’s all ye’re thinking about, lad. Ye’re obsessed.”

“And much too angry,” Emma added.

“Of course I’m angry!” Robby shouted. “The bloody bastards tortured me for two nights.”

“You need to get past your anger,” Emma said gently.

Robby scoffed. “Believe me, my anger will be miraculously cured once I’ve killed the bastards.”

Angus sighed. “Lad, ye’re a loose cannon. I’m ordering you to take some time off.”

Robby glowered at his great-great-grandfather. As the CEO of MacKay Security & Investigation, Angus was his boss. And his sire. Angus had transformed him as he lay dying on the battlefield at Culloden, so Robby felt an extremely close bond. His fierce sense of loyalty had kept him strong during captivity and torture. He’d managed to endure the pain without betraying his family and friends.

But he also had plenty of money set aside. He didn’t need to work for MacKay S&I. He could look for Casimir on his own.

“I can guess what ye’re thinking, lad,” Angus said softly. “Doona consider it. Ye’re too full of rage to take off on yer own. And ye’re too weak. That makes a lethal combination. Ye’ll get yerself killed.”

“Yer confidence in me is touching.”

“Robby.” Emma touched his arm. “We do believe in you. You just need some time to recover. That’s all we ask.”

He groaned inwardly. He hated to admit it, but they had a point. Maybe a week off wouldn’t be too bad. He could lift weights, get his strength back, then go after Casimir and kill him. “All right. I’ll…think about it.”