Ethan moved before his mind had fully processed it. His instincts screamed at him, urging him to act, to protect himself, to protect Lia and Luna, to eliminate the threat before it could escalate.
And he knew that he could do it. He had already done it. He had lifted bigger things with his mind before. He might have practised on dust specks, but he knew he could do it.
He had to. There was no other way. Anything else he did would simply draw too much attention to them. They were in the middle of a fucking city. If he attacked openly, he might as well shout at the top of his lungs that they were the ones everyone was looking for.
That knife on that table was their only salvation.
Come on. Move. Damn it. This had to work. His minions could be traced back to him. This was the only way. His gut feeling told him that this was a moment that was going to change his life.
