Vanessa wrestled with her conscience. Of course, she was used to this whole win-money-from-bets-on-battles thing, but she was unsure if she should drag Raikiri into it. She’d been battling for money in bars and taprooms since twelve years old, but Raikiri did not have her experience. Still, she needed the money. She took a deep breath and went through the doors.
Heads swiveled. Several men gave predatory crooked-toothed grins, and a woman gave a cackle. Bandit curled protectively over Vanessa’s shoulders, and her arms tightened on Silver. A man reached for her.
“Look at the pretty girlie,” he sneered loopily, obviously drunk. Silver leaped onto her head to free her hands. The drunk guy grabbed her by the shirt. Vanessa calmly placed both her hands over his, and broke his wrist with a twist and a flick. The man howled.
“Watch where you’re putting your hands,” she said coldly, a totally different person than she had been with Raikiri and Walt. This was her game face. It was go time.
“You’re gonna have to pay for that!” someone shouted from across the room.
“Oh, yeah?” Vanessa asked, smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes; they were as cold and unyielding as ice. She tossed Echo’s Pokeball up and caught it again before tucking it into her belt. “Make me.” She turned to Raikiri. “Stay back. This could get ugly.”
A massive man clambered over a barstool. “You want a fight?” he growled. “You’ll get a fight. Bets?” Bills and coins appeared from pockets, and a space cleared in the middle of the bar. Someone whistled, another calling, “Go, Tank!”
Vanessa swallowed. The man sent out a Dragonite that looked... nasty to say the least. “Silver,” she said quietly, “I’m counting on you.”
