Drifters' Alliance, Book 2 by Elle Casey

is to get them on your side.
    “No, I’m not being defensive at all,” she says, her chin once again up in the air. “I’m just not going to admit to being a thief.”
    I hold out my hands. “Hey, no one here called the Romanii thieves.”
    “You’ve done nothing but call me a thief since you stepped foot on this ship.” Her eyes go a little watery at that. Ironically, they are pretty sensitive about the stealing thing.
    “So you’re admitting to being Romanii, then?”
    “No!” she shouts. “I’m doing no such thing!”
    “Fine. Let’s go, then.” I start walking toward the exit.
    “Where?”
    “To the brig. If you can’t be honest, I can’t trust you with this ship’s most valuable asset.”
    She stands there with her jaw going out of joint, first left and then right, as she battles her inner demons. I wait for her to come to the inevitable conclusion that if she’s not here to take care of her green babies, all her hard work will go to waste when they die.
    “Fine.” She grabs at the buttons on her jacket. “You want to see me without my coat on, go ahead. Get your cheap thrills.”
    As the jacket slides from her shoulders, the edges of her all-over body tattoos are revealed, snaking out from under her collar and sleeves. Bits of concealing makeup near the bottom of her neck have smudged, telling me she’s gone to considerable effort to hide her roots from the people on this ship. I wonder if it’s just me she’s been keeping in the dark or if it includes the gingers and Jeffers too. I find it hard to believe they could all be that clueless. There had to be thirty people in here working on this grid. Wily motherfuckers, every last one of them.
    “Thank you, Lucinda. You can put your coat back on.”
    She jerks the material into place, yanking it up over her shoulders and refusing to meet my gaze.
    As clearly as she is rejecting me, it isn’t working to dissuade me from engaging with her. In fact, I’m anxious to help her understand my thought process. Normally, I’d just let someone in her position stew over it, but not when that person is a Romanii. Letting a Romanii get riled up about something and then giving them time to really simmer in that anger is never a good idea. They have long memories, and they pass them on to their kin. And those kin tend to pop up in the damnedest places.
    “I respect your culture, Lucinda. I would never call any of your people thieves.”
    She says nothing in response.
    “I also agree with the basic premise that extra resources should be put to use.”
    Her motions slow down. Now she’s brushing invisible lint or maybe imagined wrinkles from her sleeve.
    “But I also believe that before anyone relieves me of my assets, they should discuss it with me first. I’m not an unreasonable person. If I can’t use something for the good of the crew, I’ll give it up. I don’t get attached to things.”
    “People are not things,” she finally says.
    “I never said they were.”
    “You’re so quick to threaten to put someone in custody, to tell them what they should be doing and not doing.”
    I shrug. “That’s the job of the captain, Lucinda. I’m sorry that the leadership before I got on this ship was lacking, but it won’t be anymore. Not with me at the helm.”
    “And how long will that be, do you think?” She sounds tough, but she’ll never be as tough as I am.
    “Until I take my last breath, whether it’s a hundred years or ten minutes from now.”
    I walk over to the portal and leave her standing there.
    “What am I supposed to do now? Do you expect me to go to the brig?”
    I shake my head as I walk over the threshold. “Nope. I know you built this grid with the help of your people. How you got them on this ship, got them working on building this monster, and then got them off again without Langlade knowing … well, you’ll tell me eventually. Until then, I’ll wait. It’s enough right now that I know and that you know I know.”
    I