Agent of S.T.A.L.K. in Prague

She sucked on Jakub first and his eyes came into focus, the orbs bulging from their sockets. When his erection glistened with saliva from head to balls, she asked, "Did that feel good?"

"Yes, Štěpánka."

She deep throated him again and asked, "Do you want me to make you come, Jakub?"

"Yes, Štěpánka."

"How long will it take you to come in my mouth, Jakub?"

"Not long, Štěpánka, very soon."

Still gripping Jakub in her left hand, she began sucking on Kryštof's rigidity. His eyes popped open, bright and aware, he groaned as Štěpánka made love to him with her mouth.

"Kryštof? I want to taste your sperm. You're not going to deny me, are you?"

"No, Štěpánka."

"Promise me, I expect a lot out of you."

"I promise, Štěpánka. That feels so good."

"What feels good, Kryštof?"

"Your mouth does when you suck me like that."

"Are you going to come soon?"

"Yes, Štěpánka."

"Not too fast, Kryštof. It's Jakub's turn again."

Štěpánka alternated between the two men, teasing one then sucking the other, but occasionally she glanced over at Mercer to ascertain he still lay stretched out prone on the floor. He plotted his every move, each step he would take toward the dart gun, getting his hands on it and lining up his shot. When she checked on him the next time and bent to service Kryštof would be his best chance. Kryštof stood at an angle, Štěpánka would almost have her back to him. He must react before either man came or run the risk of the girl killing at least one of them. Her mouth came off Jakub and she looked over at Mercer then turned to Kryštof.

Mercer twisted onto his side, flexing his legs at the knees. He sprang quietly to his feet. Thank God he wore tennis shoes, leather soles would have betrayed him making noise. He crept toward the couch with both men's eyes glued on him, but with Štěpánka bowed over Kryštof she'd not see their eye movements. He pulled at the chain around his neck with every step he took so he'd have the crucifix in hand as insurance should Štěpánka catch him going for the gun.

He almost made it to the couch undetected.

Kryštof announced his moment drew near. Štěpánka must have looked up and seen his eyes fixed on something behind her instead of peering down at her. She turned her head as Kryštof began squirting, a jet of semen lanced diagonally across the face of the hood, another dripped down the left side. Štěpánka thrust Kryštof away from her and leaped to her feet at the same time. Mercer needed three or four more paces to reach the pistol and the girl stepped between him and his goal with a monstrous roar, fangs flashing. He held the cross up in front of his face and the succubus hesitated, eyes averted from the silver crucifix.

"Back up till you're flush with the wall, Stephanie," he cried.

"No!" she growled like an animal. "You'll fucking kill me!"

"Do as I say, sweetheart. If you don't hurt anybody, I'll let you leave. I won't harm you, I swear."

"You're lying."

"Would your daddy lie? Back up to the wall and take Kryštof and Jakub out of their trance. We'll get out of your way and you can walk out of here."

"Put down the cross!"

"Not until you do as I say.

"No."

"The entrance is only a few steps from this office. Set these guys free and walk out the front door. You have my solemn vow none of us will raise a hand against you, you can escape."

"You're trying to trick me."

"Why would a father kill his daughter? Just leave, Stephanie, no one will know."

"Get that cross out of my sight."

"Release these men first, then leave out of here, you can get away."

Judging from the set of her mouth and the eyes inside the hood the girl seemed to be considering the proposal. Suddenly she shuttled toward Mercer and he jumped sideways onto the couch, waving the crucifix in his left hand, his right clawing for the folded trenchcoat. When Štěpánka saw him reaching, she snatched at the coat. He kicked his tennis shoes against the cushions enabling him to move forward, but flopped across the armrest on his stomach. He'd gotten close and his fingertips grazed the leather when she pulled the coat out of his grasp. Half off of the couch, Mercer could do nothing but look up at her.

Štěpánka started to fling the coat away, but her eyes went wide when she felt the object in the pocket. "What's this?" she screeched. Her eyes darkened when she withdrew the dart gun. "You fuck! All along you had this and never intended to let me go. I almost believed you. Bastard!"

She leveled the pistol at him.

Mercer tried to reason with her. "If you kill me with that gun you won't be able to draw the energy from my corpse."

"Shut up! You're a dead man."

As he watched her finger tighten on the trigger he pleaded, "Stephanie, I'd rather die by your hand than that godawful gun. Please, grant your father one last request."

"This is another trick of yours."

"Honey, I love you. That pistol makes a racket people will hear all the way out in the street. If you fire a shot you'll have every bouncer in the club in here. Me, I don't mind dying, but I love you and always will. You can kill me with one bite and let me die in your arms and still get away."

The girl looked quickly at the door and then back at Mercer, wavering with indecision.

"I want what's best for you. No one will know till you're long gone. Please. For me."

She glanced over at Kryštof and Jakub, standing unmoving with ridiculous erections straining from their trousers. Štěpánka laughed at how ludicrous they appeared. She looked at Mercer, smiling.

"Unbutton your shirt and bare your neck," she said.

"Thank you, darling. Hey, I see my beer down there on the floor. My mouth is dry, mind if I have one last sip before I go?"

The smile left her face as she edged suspiciously around to see for herself. Upon seeing the glass, the smile returned. "Sure, daddy, go ahead and take a drink. It's All Soul's Day."

Štěpánka took one step back and lowered the gun while he eased onto the couch cushions with the beer in his right hand. The second he saw the pistol at her side, he lifted the glass in a toast to her.

"To you, Stephanie," he smiled.

Instead of touching the glass to his lips he splashed the beer on her chest and dived at her. Štěpánka howled in pain as her breasts and belly burst into flames. He ignored the fire and her screams, his sole purpose to wrench the pistol out of her grip before she gained the presence of mind to put a dart through him. Mercer charged like a defensive lineman and wrested the gun from her hand, forgotten as fire ate her flesh. He fell flat on his back, hauled the big pistol up, sighted and squeezed the trigger twice in succession. The two discharges sounded like champagne corks expelled from bottlenecks. Both darts hit the girl in the chest, at least one punctured the heart. They drove her backward with sufficient force to pin her to the office wall. Her shrieks and screams of pain died with her.

Mercer scrambled to get his trenchcoat to smother the fire. He neither wanted the building to go up in flames nor Štěpánka's body burned beyond recognition. An acrid stench permeated the room by the time he snuffed out the fire. Freed from the spell by her demise, Kryštof and Jakub wandered about stupefied and disoriented. Mercer chunked his ruined coat on the floor.

"Why don't you two guys zip up your pants? There aren't any ladies present anymore."

Sheepish expressions covered their faces.

"Mother of God, Mercer," rasped Kryštof, "How did you set her on fire with warm beer?"

"Not beer, Kryštof, holy water. I blessed it upstairs not long after Jitka handed it to me."

"That was fucking amazing!" Jakub hooted, "You saved our lives, man."

"I couldn't let her murder anyone else, even a scrote like you."

He laughed. "You had me thinking you were going to let the bitch bite you. I cannot believe how you tricked her."

Kryštof said, "You told Štěpánka that big gun was loud, but it hardly made a noise."

"I lied, the projectiles are gas-propelled."

Mercer scooped the leather purse off the floor and loosened the drawstring. Inside he found what he expected to find, a thick sheaf of Koruna banknotes; also something unexpected, a pair of bloodstained white panties wrapped around a tubular object. He didn't touch that, he'd let the police unwrap the bloody souvenir in the panties, certain they'd find the dead American's missing penis. Mercer put the purse on top of the desk and faced the girl's burned body affixed grotesquely to the wall. He removed the hood from her head, did a double take upon seeing her face.

"Hey, I've never seen this woman before in my life. This isn't Stephanie."

Kryštof said, "No, that's Štěpánka."

"But Jakub said . . ."

"I was trying to piss you off, Mercer, because you'd made me mad. I guess I owe you an apology."

"But she called me daddy."

Jakub explained, "When Štěpánka didn't know a guy's name she called every man daddy."