"Are you done, Mabel?" the boy said. His sister turned and glared.

"No, and quit asking." she snapped. "This proportion has to be incredibly precise in order for the spell to work."

Her hair had been tied back into a ponytail, something she never normally did, and she pushed up her glasses, which she only used for particular experiments that involved extreme precision.

She was brilliant. She knew she was. And a combination of brilliance and her beauty caused males of all ages to fall at her feet. But she wasn't interested. The only things that interested her were world conquest and brutal rejection. She was cold-hearted. Her predatory nature caused her to treat all others as if they were prey. She was rapacious, only caring about her personal desires.

Her brother, however, was not as cruel, but far more of a narcissist. He was smart, but in paled in comparison to his sister's impertinent genius. His inflated ostentation gave him a sense of self-importance, feeling as if others were worth far less than himself.

How do I know this? Because my misadventures had managed to get involved in their lives at a time.

It wasn't always this way. I wasn't always tied to a pole in their bedroom, forced to watch as they attempted to achieve domination of the known universe.

"Having a good time, Gideon?" Mabel said in a faux sweet tone.

"Enjoying every second of your brutal torture, Mabel?" I reply. Her eyes narrow and her hands begin to glow, and then she says something under her breath and they revert back to their normal color.

If she wasn't such a witch she'd actually be gorgeous. For a time, I actually had liked her.

For a time.