Chapter 16 - Gaze Into My Crystal Ball

Thomas quickly gathered the needed cash in a collection of loose and wrinkled bills and placed it on the table in front of the woman who had failed to move during Minho's most recent encounter with death. (Not an exaggeration. He totally could have keeled over any second there) As soon as the cash had been produced, however, it was as if someone had flipped a switch in the gypsy's brain and she was back to life, shooting upright as her obscure luminescent orb beamed out a radiant glow that left Minho blinking against the sudden onslaught of piercing light.

Thomas let out a groan beside the wolf at the display, throwing one long arm over his eyes as the fortune teller reached out a slow hand and snached the bills away as soon as her gaudily decorated hand hung over them and it was all Minho could do to refrain from swooping his precious mate into his arms to shield the boy's gorgeous, sensitive orbs.

"Gaze into my crystal ball." The fortune teller encouraged the moment she had her cash clasped in her gaudy fake nails, stuffing the wrinkled dollars away before craning over her supposive crystal orb of magic - It looked a lot like cheap plexiglass with a few neon lights shoved in it to Minho.

Nevertheless, Thomas leaned forward excitedly, blinking harshly a few times as if trying to be accustomed to the brightness of the thing, but soon staring wide eyed at the contraption as if the boy truly expected it to whisper the shaded secrets of his future to him. It was so cute - Jesus Christ, fuck him with a stick, Minho was seriously going to burst an artery if Thomas kept doing things like this to his heart rate every two seconds.

"There are deep shadows shrouding your past, dark and overbearing. I can barely make out the shapes of your history." The woman informed softly, staring intently into the radiant sphere with squinted eyes as she moved her hands along its surface in long, slow motions, as if she half expected to dissipate the shadows with her movements.

"Yeah. That would make sense." Thomas huffed humorlessly, obviously referring to the simple fact that he himself could not see his past longer than a few months back, let alone some chick with enough eyeliner to drown a cow staring into a cheap party decoration.

Minho reached under the table to give the younger male's leg a comforting squeeze and the brunette soon rested his hand atop the wolf's, giving the appendage a long squeeze of his own but not removing himself afterwards, leaving their hands to rest together over the teen's leg.

"I can see long hallways. Lab coats." The woman continued, gazing hard into the blue light of her ball and running her tongue thoughtfully over her lower lips, smearing her deep purple lipstick in the process. "Tests and data." The fortune teller listed off monotonously, tilting her head slightly as if trying to see deeper into the glass world.

Thomas nodded along to the reading, looking attentive and impressed, seeming to agree the story went along with what knowledge he did possess about his shrouded past.

Wolfy, of course, wanted to butt its head under Thomas's hand until attention was back on him and urged the Keeper to do any sort of insane feat to make himself the source of Thomas's impressed-ness. However, Minho had to admit that even he was a little awed at the accuracy of the woman's readings thus far, though he'd never say it outloud and was determined to remain skeptical - But honestly, there was no point. He was a fucking werewolf, with claws, and fangs, and fur, and the whole shebang so why would it be so hard to accept the notion that fortune tellers were a thing?

"There was someone!" The woman abruptly declared cheerily, pulling back from the ball and straightening her back slightly as a smile spread across her face, apparently pleased that she'd finally tapped into something of interest. "Someone close to you... Closer than anyone." The fortune teller continued excitedly, running her hands hurriedly over the surface of the glass orb before letting them drop to the table, as if she'd finally found something with a strong enough connection to see past the shadows without all the gesturing.

Minho gulped, swallowing thickly as his pulse picked up and he tried his best to look like an individual who had no dim recollection of being in love with his best friend in a past life whatsoever.

"Hidden in dark hallways, the briefest brush of lips against lips when no one was watching..."The fortune teller mused softly, leaning back to get a better look at the ball. "There was something else about this person though." The girl informed carefully, craning back over the sphere and squinting her eyes in concentration as she stared into the light blue glow of the item, confusion written all over her face.

"Like what?" Thomas questioned curiously, leaning forward and scooching his chair a little closer to the table as his hazel orbs fixed on the ball, as if he half expected it to start displaying the mysteries of his past life like a movie projector.

"Something," The fortune teller began than paused for a long moment, biting her lip and looking slightly anxious. "Inhuman." The woman concluded suspiciously, face darkening as she gazed into the ambiance of her luminescent sphere. "It changes." The girls started uncomfortably, pulling back slightly from the table as if disgruntled by her own premonitions. "You knew, you saw, and yet you still loved that..." The woman paused again, this time to twist her face into a look of disgust. "Abomination."

Minho tensed in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable in the tiny tent that now seemed to crowd in around him and he lowered his eyes to the floor, the paranoid fear that the fortune teller could look into them and see what he truly was gripping his heart and casting fear over him like a heavy blanket.

"Can you tell me about my future?" Thomas interjected hastily, looking no more comfortable with the entire situation than anyone else in the room and apparently eager to move on from the subject. The brunette did, however, reach out a searching hand until it found Minho's and intertwined their digits to give a comforting squeeze - The kid must've felt his companion tense up, it was the only explanation that made any sense.

The fortune teller hesitated, still looking rather unhappy about whatever she had seen, but after a moment she shrugged and swiped her hand over the glowing sphere in a slow swirling motion, twirling her fingers over the crest of the device until she finally pulled back again. "The abomination is still with you." The woman informed blankly, looking entirely unimpressed.

Thomas, on the other hand, perked up interestedly, his teeth gnawing into his lower lip thoughtfully and Minho swore he could almost see the gears in his friend's head grinding together in thought. The boy never got much of a chance to really consider that new information, however, as the woman began speaking again almost instantly, apparently uninterested in dwelling on that subject any longer.

"I sense great misfortune in your future, young one." The fortune teller whispered pityingly, her eyes softening some as a frown pulled at her violet painted lips.

"No surprise there." Thomas snorted unbotheredly, leaning back in his chair and looking far too accustomed to unavoidable pain and suffering than anyone his age should be, or anyone should be, really.

Minho, on the other hand, was absolutely not fine with this ominous premonition in any way, shape, or form. The wolf bit back a protective growl as he leaned forward to fix the woman with a hard stare, the fear that had him reluctant to gaze into her eyes a moment ago gone in light of something endangering his mate. "Explain." Was all the boy was able to bite out without snarling, and even that single word had the gravelly lowness of a growl about it as the Keeper instinctively moved closer to his Runner, pressing against the brunette's side as his wolf refused to be restrained to anything less.

"The type of suffering caused only by separation from those who we care most about." The woman sighed sadly, looking truly sorry for the fact. "Be wary of those you trust because..." The fortune teller began but then stopped dead, her voice cracking out as her lips came to fall agape and her eyes blew wide as an untold horror came to fill them.

"What is it?" Minho pressed urgently, the words coming out far more like a snarl then he'd intended them too, though he honestly could not bring himself to care in the slightest with the promise of danger befalling his precious mate hanging over the wolf like a dark cloud of foreboding coming to pour its horrible acid rain of fear upon him.

"The-" The fortune teller began in a choked voice but struggled to get the rest out as she merely pointed a single, shaking finger at the crystal ball, as if forgetting her guests could see none of what was swirling in those murky depths in her panic. "The black eyes!" The woman shuddered out in a strangled mix of a scream and a whisper, her face going ashy white as she pushed back from the table and scrambled upright with such fervor that Minho was concerned the ball may burst into flames any moment or some other such immediate danger would make itself known.

However, there was no sudden explosion or abrupt attack from within and the only thing that did happen was the fortune teller came rushing over to the pair and threw her arms out in a frantic gesture to get out. "Leave me! Take your curse elsewhere, damned ones!" The woman gasped breathlessly, suddenly drawing back as far from the Glader's as she could possibly get in the small tent, swooping to the opposite side of the tiny room and pressing herself against the canvas wall, shrinking into herself and staring at them as if Satan himself was perched on their shoulders.

"Okay, lady, calm down!" Thomas complied hastily, rising from his chair and holding his hands up in a pacifying gesture as he began backing up slowly from the scene, confusion etched all over his pretty face.

Minho couldn't convince himself to say anything, staring at the curled up woman with a lookin of numb terror, horrified by all he heard and unable to shake himself into movement. "What-?" The wolf tried once more, desperate for information and shaken to the core at the implications of this batty bitch's words. He needed to know all he could if he were to protect his mate, most pressing on the list of things Minho would like to know, of course, being what the fuck he needed to protect the boy from.

"Leave, you, run back to your tainted friends! The bearer of the demon hides among you, yet you are blind! His damned puppet and his victim are already unsalvageable, just leave!" The fortune teller screeched, digging her hands into her hair as she began to tremble, the sound of a broken sob escaping her as she tried to shrink further into herself.

"Minho, let's just go." Thomas whispered from the wolf's side, lithe fingers coming to brush against where Minho's hands had balled themselves into tight fists, knuckles pale from the tension as their owner fought back the urge to hold his claws against this stupid woman's throat until she told him clearly what was coming for his mate and how the wolf could protect the one he loved.

The boy hesitated for a long moment, tense as a board and completely still as he glared hard at the fortune teller and dimly wondered if his eyes were glowing but found himself unable to muster up the effort to care at the moment. The woman had said something was coming with the intent to make his Thomas - His mate - suffer and now she refused to give information? The werewolf growled low and dangerous, the need to protect his precious boy easily winning out against the need to keep his secret. Keeping Thomas safe was more important.

"Minho." Thomas whispered again, a little more urgently this time, and his smooth fingers prodded against the Keeper's balled fist persistently until the wolf finally untensed the digits and let the brunette entwine their fingers together, the boiling anger fueling the werewolf draining almost instantly at the touch. Thomas urged the wolf towards the flap they'd entered tentatively, guiding his companion with their joint hands as the brunette began moving towards the exit, the low hanging beads brushing against the kid's shoulders as Minho reluctantly followed, his wolf still snarling but choosing to follow its mate rather than stay and dismember some dumb bitch.

The cool air of the outdoors soon brushed against Minho's skin, the icy sensation easing some of the enraged flames burning through his veins but it was no secret that it was only Thomas's steady grip on the boy's hand that kept him from wolfing out right then and there. The Keeper let his gaze take in the scene outside as a distraction, noticing the way the sky had gone almost completely black during the time they'd been at the fair, letting the teen know they'd been their much longer than it felt like.

More importantly, the Keeper noted that the moon was merely a single sliver away from being full, the luminescent almost-sphere huge and looming in the sky, overbearing in its fullness - As if someone had taken a sharpie and scrawled "foreshadowing" across it in huge, bold letters. Minho told himself that he was probably being fucking paranoid but legends were not something to be toyed with in this place, apparently, so the teen truly had no idea what to expect with the first full-moon out of Wicked's control.

For all the teen knew, he might be completely unaffected... Or he may actually transform into a literal wolf for the night and wouldn't that be a trip? Minho could picture it now, himself a huge, snarling animal intent on licking Thomas's face and growling at anyone that got too close... Well, actually, Minho was kinda doing all that already, wolf or no wolf, so maybe the difference wouldn't be too obvious?

Thomas was known for his obliviousness after all, maybe the kid would just fail to pick up on the fact that the boy had gotten much hairier - Mark it off as Minho not shaving or something. After all, Thomas had somehow stayed blind to the fact that Minho was absolutely head over heels for him, and the fact that he was a goddamn werewolf, even after that time the Runner found his Keeper rubbing one of the brunette's shirts against his face in an attempt to get his scent all over it so everyone would smell him on his mate... Who the hell knows what excuse Thomas made up for that one in his head. Minho had a cotton fetish? Guess that was better than the teen deducing that what the wolf actually had was a Thomas fetish.

"It'll be okay." Thomas whispered at his side and gave his companion's hand a comforting squeeze, looking slightly shaken but overall relatively calm for someone who'd just been told they were doomed to suffer unbearable pain and trauma - The observation not leaving Minho feeling guiltless as the notion that his mate had already endured torment beyond the point of numbness left the wolf feeling as if he'd failed to protect his treasure thus far and the boy vowed to guard that which was most important better this time. Gypsy predictions or no gypsy predictions, Minho wouldn't let anything happen to Thomas.

Minho opened his mouth with the intent to tell Thomas this, ready to speak something along the lines of I'll protect you or I won't let anything happen to you but what came out instead was actually a super comforting, totally convincing, "Yeah," as the wolf choked on his own words and bit his lip before he could let anything too stupid spill forth.

But Thomas must've gotten the message, he always was good at reading Minho despite the Keeper's apparent inability to utter a simple phrase in the brunette's presence, because the kid interlaced their fingers and his sweet scent, which had been carrying an acid edge of fear for so long Minho had almost become numb to it, ebbed into the calming aroma of content.

This, of course, left Minho wanting to bury his face into his mate's neck and inhale that wonderful, mesmerizing smell of peace and ease upon him, wanting nothing more than to make that amazing calm remain in his boy forever. The Keeper's wolf relaxed as its mate did and beamed with pride at the fact that he had managed to make his baby feel that way, loving the idea that Thomas felt safe with him, trusted Minho to protect him... It helped that the brunette kept their fingers interlaced even after the tense moment passed, leaving their hands locked as they began to move away from the bat-shit crazy bitch and her weird premonitions and never letting go even when they caught sight of the rest of the pack gathered nearby and ran to meet them.

Huh. So holding hands was something they did now. Nice.