Luce started to reply defensively,  "I killed her because she was fuc--"<br/><br/>Anaya stepped in verbally as well as physically, and she spoke to Shawn with the patient, calming voice of one who is trying to hold back a very volatile situation - if that were possible.  "She was sick Shawn."  She used his name on purpose.  Sometimes it had a stabilizing affect.  "She had no idea what she was doing."  Her eyes flickered down to the pathetic form of the girl on the ground.  "She would have killed you too.  I know it sucks, but she would have died anyway.  Now we need to keep moving."  Anaya's ears were still ringing from the battle and her lungs were aching, her vision slightly swimming, but she could not show it.  For some reason a memory flickered in her mind.  She had tripped and fallen, turned her ankle.  A hand reached down to help her up.  Her step-father, Martin the first time they'd met, and he wore a very kind, very accepting smile.  "You alright there?"  She shook her head to clear it.  Memories of Martin were painful, even more so than thoughts of her mother.