"Hmph. You might have a little bit of a problem with that. See, I happen to like the Slayers. So I'm not inclined to let you hurt them. As for my 'bauble'..." Peter lifted one hand, placing it over his chest where the prop was sitting. "You might find it a little hard to get that away."
The shift of his features was interesting. Not a full vamp-out, but just a hint. That was different.
"You won't mess anything up. You'll be dead by sunrise." Peter raised a hand. There was a faint sound of wood breaking, and then there was a stake in his hand, still sheathed in bark, but sharpened to a deadly point. "You want to keep talking, or are you ready to tango?"