Jack gives him a dead sort of look. He still doesn't always know how to handle things being his call, even when he's sure that they are.

Then he squats down, quirks a hand and drags the Sister towards him with telekinesis.

She wails in fear and struggles, but the plasmid is strong as I'm sure Sinclair can attest, and a moment later Jack has a none too gentle hand around her arm. He stares at her horrible face, already feeling sick, the kind of sick that happens when you miss too many meals. Already he's anticipating the boost that usually comes next. And he's not going to get it. And it's going to be awful.

"Shut up," he says sulkily. "I'm not killing you."

Then he calls up yet another plasmid, and his veins begin to glow a pure white.